All I Want For Christmas - A Hamilton Advent Calendar
by gingermusicalphan
Summary: With a new chapter of this festive story every day on the countdown to Christmas, join the characters of Hamilton as they search for love in this modern coffee shop AU with a definite hint of fluff thrown in for good measure! And don't worry if you've missed a few days, it's not too late to catch up! TW: Mentions of domestic violence in 2 chapters
1. December 1st

**A/N: IT IS FINALLY OFFICIALLY DECEMBER! I LITERALLY BEGAN THIS IN AUGUST, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW DESPERATE I'VE BEEN TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU ALL!**

 **So, to explain, this is essentially an advent calendar. As a fan fiction. There will be a new chapter every day from now til Christmas, and because Christmas is a time for love, it will follow the Revolutionary Crew™ in their romantic endeavours! Stick with me, it's gonna be fun (if not cheesy and probably a little predictable, but hey, I love cheesy stories!), I promise!**

 **One thing I will mention right at the start is that in chapters 14 and 22 there will be small mentions of domestic abuse, please be aware of that. I will place a trigger warning when that actually comes around, just to be safe. I urge you not to read anything which could make you at all uncomfortable!**

 **Now let's stick a disclaimer right about here: I do not own or make any profit out of Hamilton, but you already knew that because if I did I would not be here writing fluffy festive fanfiction! I am just a person who loves writing!**

 **Happy festive season, everyone! Now, let's open the metaphorical calendar door number 1...**

* * *

 **December 1**

The winter air held a biting chill, causing a rush of blood to hurry to the cheeks of anyone courageous or foolish enough to brave walking the New York City streets, and when the wind swept between the impossibly tall skyscrapers it brought with it the sharpness of a thousand tiny knives, cutting through any amount of layered jumpers with ease and assaulting passers-by with such abrasive force that their senses were rendered numb within minutes of leaving the shelter of a building.

But within Fraunces' Tavern Cafe, where the coffees served in the renovated former colonial pub were accompanied by abnormally large quantities of hot steam, and the wide, disused old fireplace held four fan heaters turned up to full power, and the light bulbs were never turned off for long enough that they cooled down and stopped producing a warmth of their own, there was not a whisper of the freezing external weather to speak of. Which was just as well, because there was no place for even a hint of coolness as the only patrons of the coffee shop laughed and joked and crammed themselves onto two small couches surrounding a single coffee table, particularly when there was a grand total of seven of them squeezed into that small area. It was a small space, with hardly room enough to breathe, but when they had all chosen that precise table for the express purpose of being able to share the warmth of the heaters between them and remaining close enough to each other that they could still talk, it would have seemed ridiculous to complain about being in such stifling proximity to one another, especially when the huddled formation permitted them to share body heat.

On the rare occasions when the owner of the establishment, George King, reared his physically attractive but metaphorically ugly head, he would dictate that the tightly knit group were not allowed to remain so densely packed onto the sofas. But seeing as he preferred to allow his staff to perform the hard labour needed to run the place while he simply stood aside and reaped the rewards of owning a successful business, the only other employees were more than happy to allow the group to do just as they wanted, on the condition that they were allowed to join the often boisterous conversation when it suited them. And when it didn't, James Madison and Aaron Burr entertained themselves chatting amicably to one another in far more subdued, far less raucous tones than those emitted by the group in the corner by the fireplace.

As Burr approached the group with the fifth round of drinks purchased in that one sitting, Angelica called for his assistance, signalling him with a lofty wave of one finger and silencing Peggy's waterfall of words by pushing the other hand over her mouth, eliciting an indignant shriek. "Burr, you're not completely insane, right? So don't you agree that October is far to early to start putting Christmas decorations up all over the place?"

Aaron smirked, bemused both at Angelica's obvious exasperation as they resurrected an argument the close sisters had evidently had many times before in the past few months, and by the wide eyed, pleading expressions of both of her younger sisters. Angelica was quite correct when she mentioned his lack of insanity, and Burr knew as well as anyone else that it was always futile and sometimes even dangerous to pick a side in the few squabbles the siblings had - not that they would express irritation at one another, but it was inevitable that the one who was brave enough to state their own honest opinion would be assaulted with a plethora of arguments for why their views were wrong. Neatly obfuscating and dancing around the question, he smiled sympathetically to the trio as he insisted, "No comment. But I _will_ point out that December the first is far too late in the year for sisters to come to blows. It's nearly Christmas, after all."

The eldest Schuyler sister exchanged a knowing look with the young man sat opposite her, recognizing from his quizzically raised eyebrow that he was thinking the exact same thing she was: _Typical Aaron Burr. Alex is right when he says he stands for nothing._

No matter how vague Burr managed to be, his response was evidently enough to cause the youngest of the sisters to crow, thinking herself victorious, prodding Angelica's ribs and simultaneously embracing Eliza in a one armed hug as she triumphantly declared, "There! Aaron has clearly stated he believes that Christmas is not a time for familial rivalry, which would indicate he holds a mostly hidden but nonetheless present reverence for that magical thing we all call Christmas spirit. And as we all know, the best way to express Christmas spirit is by adorning every surface with decorations, ergo he is siding with Eliza and I!" She grinned, basking in the glow of her deduction and leaning in to the middle sister, who sat on her other side, beaming her radiant smile as she shifted to allow Peggy more comfort and sipped at her eggnog cappuccino.

"Nice work, Peg-Leg," Alexander complimented, nodding in somewhat surprised but nonetheless genuine appreciation of her quick analysis of Burr's ambiguous response. "It's hard to read Burr properly, I struggle with it myself..." He gazed sombrely into the distance for comedic impact, knowing it was worth feeling the beginnings of a glare burning into the back of his neck from the man in question when he heard a collective chuckle of agreement rise from the group, and in particular when he saw as well as felt the boy squeezed up to his side laugh wholeheartedly. At the sound of John Laurens' charming laugh, Alexander couldn't help but drop the pretence of wistfullness and smile, catching the infectious urge to grin from John. He resumed his conversation with Peggy as he complimented, "You're really getting better at justifying your argument and reaching a well reasoned conclusion."

The youngest of the group by a few years beamed, relishing the praise - despite her claims of independence and the way she was occasionally prone to drift away from the group, she couldn't help but adore being recognized for her talents, particularly those she worked so hard to craft.

"That internship with the Washingtons must be paying off," Hercules remarked, referring to how Alex had arranged for her to take a junior position at the law firm he worked at a few months ago. It had been when he had a fleeting crush on Eliza - _or was it Angelica?_ Hercules wondered, before deciding it was irrelevant seeing as both crushes had overlapped one another and lasted for all of three days put together - and he had sought to impress them by finding the youngest Schuyler sister employment at the office, procuring her the opportunity to learn from the Washingtons, two of the greatest lawyers known to any of the group, or indeed the rest of New York.

"That's our Peggy, so full of potential," Eliza affectionately decided, wrapping an arm around her little sister's shoulders and sweetly kissing her cheek, causing the younger girl to groan, whilst the eldest sister only giggled fondly at the pair.

"So full of barely realized interior design skills," Lafayette commented, eyes glowing with excitement as be steered the conversation back towards one of his favourite topics of the festive season, the very thing Angelica had been avidly protesting. "The way you decorate is incredible, I couldn't express my love for it the last time I visited, but it truly deserves the highest praise," he insisted, his voice thick with the vibrations of his heavy accent, which apparently seemed to refuse to fade at all no matter how many years he had lived in America. Rumours had begun to circulate that nowadays he simply donned it through choice, (courtesy of Mulligan, who insisted that his best friend and flatmate lost all traces of his French accent when singing in the shower) however he ardently insisted otherwise.

"Laf, enough of this already," Hercules groaned, tossing his head back as if uttering a prayer to the sky for deliverance from his excessively festive flatmate. "You don't stop talking about tinsel! And don't think I didn't notice you scattered some snowflake sequins in the shop yesterday," he added accusingly, certain that the only person determined enough to force him to catch the infectious thing known as Christmas spirit that they would venture to his family's tailoring business and sprinkle the most subtle of decorations around the place was the very same man who had adorned their shared home with garish paper chains and hauled their old plastic Christmas tree from its box on the second week of November.

Fluttering his impossibly long eyelashes as he feigned innocence, Lafayette only defended sweetly, "My dear Mulligan, I only do these things because I care about you." If he noticed the faintest trace of red colouring the cheeks of his flatmate, he made no indication of it as he continued, "I just want you to join the festivities and have fun, and the best way to make that happen is by forcing Christmas on you through snowflake sequins."

"Au contraire, mon grand French fry!" Laurens disagreed in an intentionally poor French accent (despite the fact that he was in fact fluent), sombrely reciting, "The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear." A collective chuckle arose from the crowd, prompting Laurens to rise to his feet and begin to holler at the top of his voice the first carol to drift into his mind: " _SILENT NIGHT, HO-"_

It fell to James Madison, approaching with a selection of snacks, to select John's muffin from the tray and pop it into his open mouth, silencing him more efficiently than any amount of complaining would have achieved otherwise. Taking him by the shoulders, the soft spoken man quietly but firmly requested, "Sit down, John," and proceeded to make sure he did just that with a gentle push.

Laughing at his friend's expense, Alexander began to lose track of the conversation, unintentionally forgetting to pay attention to the remainder of the group discussing their favourite Christmas movies and instead becoming entranced as he watched Laurens remove the muffin from his mouth, chuckle, and wipe away the crumbs which had fallen onto his chin. The man's captivating hazel eyes danced with humour as they darted from face to face, and the generous smattering of freckles covering his high cheeks and the strong bridge of his nose seemed to move as fluidly as an ocean of stars whenever his animated face shifted into a wide, attractive grin. As brief as his crushes on the eldest Schuyler sisters had been, his affection for one John Laurens seemed to only grow, and he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this year, his first Christmas in New York City, he might receive the one thing he desired above all else.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it, scolding himself internally for falling prey to such a cliché phrase. _I don't need a boyfriend for this to be my best Christmas yet,_ he decided. _I know it will be anyway, with friends like these._

Returning his focus to the group, he noticed that they were deciding to hold a gathering the following day at Mulligan and Lafayette's to watch their favourite Christmas movies. Eliza was addressing him, "You finish at three tomorrow just like Peggy, right, Alexander? So we can start at three thirty."

"Sure, sounds good," Alex agreed, nodding enthusiastically. Despite his aversion to taking breaks from work in favour of indulging in frivolous activities with his friends, the Washingtons had both separately insisted he relax more. George had even requested evidential proof that he did something other than write, hence his eagerness to agree to an event which would undoubtedly provide him with just the opportunity to display that he had some semblance of a social life.

"Burr, Madison, you guys too," Mulligan called over to the baristas, not needing to turn to face them in order for his loud voice to carry all the way to the counter. "Movie marathon at ours tomorrow."

"Bring your favourite festive flick," Lafayette chimed in, clapping with glee from the sheer anticipation.

With a sigh, Aaron apologized, "Sorry, I can't make it, I've got to work." He refused to allow his inner disappointment to show externally, but truthfully he _did_ regret that he couldn't attend with the rest of the group, if only because it deprived him of the chance to see at least one of them bawling over some horrendously cheesy film.

"Ugh. You are the worst, Burr," Lafayette sighed in exasperation - it seemed the occasions when they could corral Burr into joining them and having fun were extremely few and far between.

"I can make it, but Thomas will want to come with me, if that's alright," Madison responded, half expecting to be banned from attending purely based on that statement; they all knew the bitter feud which had raged on between Hamilton and Jefferson almost since the moment the former set foot in the city and had gotten his job with the Washingtons.

Jefferson had worked there for a brief time, but when Alexander arrived and displayed his talent for law, Washington saw no reason to continue hiring an inferior lawyer with an obnoxious personality. Jefferson had been issued a warning, Hamilton had made a snide remark, and Jefferson had gone for him with his ferocious fists flying in addition to his perpetual acid tongue, earning him an immediate dismissal. In the six months since that unfortunate occurrence, he had purchased a disused building and transformed it into a successful bar, yet his lingering animosity towards Hamilton remained.

Alexander still held fast to his loathing for Jefferson, too, and his illiterate groan implied a rejection for Madison if he brought his companion along was just about to come.

But instead it was Peggy who shrugged and decided, "The more the merrier, right?" She shot Alexander a meaningful look as she said so, wordlessly conveying, _I know you hate him, but you have to get over this._ Alex sighed in disgruntled submission. He was far from delighted, but he had learned to trust the younger woman's judgment in the months since they had been working together almost daily.

Reluctantly, _any_ of those who held reservations had to agree - there was no arguing with the baby of their group, particularly when she was so endearing and charming. So, Angelica declared, "That's it then. Settled. We'll arrive at Laf and Herc's tomorrow at three thirty and watch all of our favourite Christmas movies."

"Sounds like it should be fun!" Elizabeth enthused, her placid features glowing festive satisfaction.

"I _guess_ I can manage to have a good time even with _that man_ there," Hamilton muttered under his breath. Only Laurens seemed to hear him, and he chuckled wholeheartedly and clapped a sympathetic hand on his best friend's shoulder. Revising his opinion, the Caribbean man decided, _Actually, I think this_ will _be fun._

And time would soon prove him to be quite right. In fact, within twenty-four days, Alexander Hamilton, along with those he had made his family within the time he had been living in New York City, would discover their best Christmas yet.

* * *

 **A/N: Ahh this is so short and cheesy! I'm just setting it up right now, it's gonna get juicier and longer. Also I assume you vaguely know the characters, so I haven't gone into detailed descriptions of them all. I see them as the OBC, but please feel free to imagine them any way you like!**


	2. December 2nd

**A/N: Hey there! Thanks for the initial positive response to this! And Happy Hamilton Mixtape Release Day! I am so jazzed for it! Also I have noticed that although last night I uploaded chapter 1 at midnight twenty on December 1st, according to the site which I suppose relies on US timings, it was still November... Well, I'm not going to have a daily update time, but if I happen to upload a chapter a few hours before it's the official date where you are, please don't get mad at me!**

 **Anyway, onwards! Happy December 2nd! It's Fridayyyy!**

* * *

 **December 2**

Elizabeth Schuyler couldn't bring herself to select a favourite season, but no matter how she ranked it, she knew she loved winter; the bizarre satisfaction of being wrapped up in just enough layers that she was immune to the fierce wind regardless of how determined it was to sweep her away was something that brought her a strange kind of pleasure which she couldn't really explain but enjoyed even so.

But the one issue with winter, in her opinion, was that it was absolutely imperative that you _did_ wear enough to be spared the full force of the icy chill. And that was definitely _not_ something one of Lafayette's colleagues from the patisserie had achieved, by the looks of her. Eliza had only spoken to the girl a few times, and for a moment the ice in the air froze her brain and the young woman's name eluded her, but even so, when she spotted her across the street as she made her way to Laf and Mulligan's flat, shivering and wearing only a thin red t-shirt and a pair of leggings, she felt compelled to dash across the road and approach the woman, trying to recall her name as she approached from their previous brief encounters. As soon as she remembered, she exclaimed, "Maria!"

The other woman flinched, (not that it was particularly noticeable when she continued shuddering so violently from the temperature she was visibly ill equipped for) and turned to face Eliza just as she skidded to a halt behind her wearing a warm but undeniably sympathetic grin. Not sure whether to return it when the source was a woman she couldn't recall ever seeing before, Maria only replied tersely, "Yes?"

At the look of confusion on her face, Eliza offered her a hand to shake and introduced herself, "I'm Elizabeth Schuyler, Lafayette's friend. We've met before, I've been a customer at the patisserie, and you were there for his last birthday party, right?" Maria tentatively accepted the handshake, thawed slightly by the friendly, soothing tone of the young woman's voice. She was right, Maria recognized her now, mainly because the movement of Eliza's mouth as she spoke had nudged her scarf so that it no longer covered the majority of her face.

Yet it still hadn't fallen into place why the near-stranger had ran to greet her. She was not so much accusing as genuinely curious as she replied, "Yes, that's right. But what do you want me for?" A hint of suspicion was beginning to form in Maria's intricate brown eyes, her reluctance to trust others just one of many unfortunate consequences of a past she refused to revisit.

But despite her internal misgivings, there was nothing untrustworthy about Eliza. She reached tentatively for Maria's shoulder and couldn't refrain from rubbing a fraction of warmth into the frosty fabric as she gently pointed out, "You look freezing. I... Thought I might be able to help?" _Wonderful, just perfect, I sound entirely patronizing,_ she internally criticized the clumsy manner in which she had voiced her concerns.

The shivering girl wrapped her arms tightly around herself in an attempt to accumulate a trace of heat in her cold body. The woman seemed polite enough, however, she wasn't keen on the idea of being reliant on someone else - not after what she had been through. She raised an eyebrow and pouted her ruby lips, exuding palpable scepticism as she asked, "How exactly were you hoping to do that?" _You seem sweet, but I'm not naive enough to believe that grabbing a coffee and having a giggle will solve my problems, so if that's her solution, there's no chance._

Confidence was not something Elizabeth Schuyler had an abundance of, and she couldn't help but be intimidated by Maria. Something in her endlessly compassionate heart ached to help the woman, however: it wasn't just that she was clearly cold, but the more they spoke, the clearer it became that she was a young girl weighed down with such an unbearable load of sadness that it had crippled her youthful energy and destroyed her ability to trust in humanity. So Eliza persisted despite the molten caramel gaze burning dubiously into her, "I wondered if you were busy right now? I'm heading over to Laf's now, you'd be more than welcome to join me if you wanted to get out of the cold."

Maria opened her mouth to immediately reject the offer, but the second she had the words of protest poised to leap off of her tongue, Elizabeth bit her lip, still beaming hopefully. There was something about the girl that was strangely endearing, some rare quality to her that evidently charmed people. _It's not one of the revolting clichés I was expecting, and I have nothing better to do,_ Maria reasoned, _and Lafayette is always a laugh. I could use that now._ "Alright," she accepted, the word tasting unusual as she responded to the random act of kindness far more positively than even she would have predicted. Timid, she began to allow her permanent emotional shield to drop slightly, and in return the feeling of warmth radiating from Elizabeth's presence started to curl her red lips into a tentative smile.

At once, Eliza slipped her arm through the other woman's and pulled her scarf from around her own neck to wind it around her new friend. "Come on, we're going to be having a Christmas movie marathon, we need to hurry if we don't want to miss the start," she implored, resuming her swift but somehow unhurried pace, Maria in tow.

"Liza!" Only a surprised fraction of the woman's name escaped from Maria as she found herself rendered breathless by their quick pace. "Okay, what's the rush?" Maria queried, the unexpected speed with which her lithe companion moved making it difficult for her lungs to adjust to the uncomfortable sensation of brutally cold air punching it's way in and out of her throat. _I'm as keen as anyone to get warm somewhere, but is it really necessary to walk so quickly when the pavement is this slippery and the air is this hard to inhale?_

Elizabeth giggled mischievously, forgetting that she had hardly exchanged a handful of sentences with the girl as she coquettishly quoted, "Baby, it's cold outside!" She couldn't help but sympathize, after all she realized that in her poorly clad condition Maria must be more susceptible to the weather. Compromising, she stepped closer to Maria so that their shoulders brushed as they walked, and slowed their speed by a fraction.

It was all very unprecedented for the girl who had somehow been swept into Eliza's plan.

Caught off guard, she was tempted to change her mind as soon as it had been made up. But already, Maria got the impression that Elizabeth Schuyler was simply and plainly impossible to refuse - it had been two minutes, and Maria had already decided that she would hate to see anything but joy in those entrancing dark eyes of hers.

She preferred not to wonder exactly why that was. Perhaps if she had been brave enough to ask the critical question, she would have realized that it was because once upon another lifetime, she herself had been like Eliza - hopeful, trusting, sweet.

Still, there was plenty of time for Maria Lewis to become braver.

* * *

Thanks to her stop to bring another person to the gathering of friends, Eliza was the last to arrive at the apartment. With a reassuring glance to Maria, who had begun to look nervous at the prospect of intruding the meeting of close friends, she opened the door with her own key and called melodically, "I'm here, and I brought company!"

They walked through to the sitting room, where it seemed the viewing had already begun, a movie she automatically recognized as Peggy's favourite as well as one of her own top ten, a British film called " _Love Actually._ " Fuelled with renewed excitement, she pulled Maria with surprising strength to sit on one of the cushions scattered on the floor, at the centre of a triangle formed by Angelica and Peggy and a young man she only vaguely recognized from his iconic afro. _That must be James's friend, Thomas._

Lafayette was the only one to remark on the presence of the unexpected guest, fondly greeting, "Maria! Bienvenue, mon amie! I would have invited you myself if I had seen you, or if you would give me your number, but I'm so pleased our Eliza brought you."

The newcomer only had time to give an appreciative nod before a murmur for quiet arose from the rest of the group. Taking the hint, Maria didn't verbally reply, only settled down on the cushion closest to Eliza.

The complete silence, a rarity amongst such a usually verbose selection of people, lasted for all of ten minutes, before it was interrupted by an intentionally loud remark from Thomas Jefferson as he waved a hand towards the screen in reference to the movie, "If I were the leader of a country, even a tiny little island like England, I know who I'd want as my tea girl. I know what I'd do with her, too." As all eyes fell on him, he proceeded to shamelessly wink at the single person he would have chosen, Angelica Schuyler. His expression of intense flirtation was shattered when she responded with nothing but a sceptical eyebrow being raised, causing him to chuckle as he pleaded, "Don't give me that look, doll. I'm just saying how I feel." He shrugged nonchalantly, almost as if he expected the woman to fall immediately at his feet in reaction to his laughable attempt to seduce her.

But the eldest and wittiest of the three Schuyler sisters was not so easily won over by his tactless comment. Still displaying only her intense disapproval for his statement, she responded, "What makes you think that if you and I were to work in the household where the country's leader lives, it would be _me_ bringing tea whilst _you_ took on the leadership role? If anything, _I_ should be more likely to take control of a country, and if that was the case I would definitely confine the likes of you to work in someplace I wouldn't ever have to encounter you." A smug smirk of satisfaction danced about her lips, and she proudly pointed out, "The latter seems the far more likely scenario considering _I_ actually hold the basic common sense to know that England is not an island."

Rolling his eyes and biting his lip, that attempt at a seductive expression returned as Jefferson insisted, "Whatever you say, babe. You can be the boss, as long as we're there together. And hey, who said your dominance had to remain strictly professional? I could think of some other scenario that I wouldn't mind you taking charge in..." He trailed off, biting his bottom lip. His heated gaze burned into Angelica, urging her to pay him the attention she denied him.

At that blatant innuendo, Alexander saw fit to take a sock from his foot and flick it at the other man as he disciplined, "You must be out of your goddamned mind if you think Angie would ever even consider getting with you, especially after those awful pickup lines." Season of goodwill or otherwise, Hamilton's voice still rang with disgust whenever he undertook the odious task of addressing the man.

Jefferson was fully prepared to rise to the challenge and come back at Alexander with some equally fierce rebuttal, but before he could utter a word, Angelica had interrupted with the warning, "I think you'd better shut up right about now. You disgust me, and if that's not bad enough, you're interrupting my little sister's favourite Christmas movie for no good reason."

Unfazed, Thomas asked, "Isn't your beauty reason enough, doll?"

Her patience wearing thin, Angelica swatted his forehead with the back of his hand and muttered darkly, "I'm serious. This is Peggy's film, you don't get to ruin it, Jefferson. If you do, I will..." She found herself at a loss for words. Christmas movies on her mind, the only suitable punishment she could come up with was a particularly Grinch-like one, nevertheless she remained venomous as she threatened, "I will wrap you. In wrapping paper." And considering the fact that her dark eyes bore into him with the heat of smouldering ashes, he did not doubt she meant it.

* * *

With the threat of Angelica swiftly dispatching anyone who dared to distract her youngest sister from her favourite movie looming over the group, the remainder of the film passed in near silence, disturbed by nothing but a few murmurs of approval at various points. As it concluded, Alexander stretched, leaning back into John and arching his back, eliciting a groan as the full weight of the smaller man's shoulders pressed into his chest, squeezing the breath out of him as Alexander yawned and asked, "What's next?"

"It's _got_ to be my choice - _Home Alone_ is a glorious and inspiring example of determination and courage in the face of adversity. You'll love it, Alexander," Laurens informed him, grinning contentedly; with his favourite Christmas movie playing and his best friend laying in him, he doubted life could be much better.

" _Actually,_ I think you'll find _Home Alone_ is a classic example of child neglect: what type of parents forget their son on not one, not two, not even three, but _four_ family holidays?" Peggy arched an eyebrow, yet her grudging smile betrayed her true enjoyment of the Christmas classic.

"Personallement, I believe _Elf_ is where it's at," Lafayette interjected. "A tall and flamboyant man travels from his home to New York City and meets his family - it is a tale I can relate to," the Frenchman insisted, glancing around at his friends; they _were_ the family he referred to.

"Same here," Alexander agreed, immediately drawn to the movie he had in reality never had the opportunity to watch simply by Laf's description.

Disapproving, Jefferson quipped, "Laf said it was about a _tall_ guy. You are _not_ one of those, Hamilton."

Ignoring the squabbling as he often had to where Thomas was involved, Madison cleared his throat and peered over at the list he had written upon arrival, and read it out, "Actually, next on the list is Hercules' film, _The Snowman."_

This time Laurens' groan was not caused by the weight on him, (a weight he evidently did not begrudge, seeing as he slung a lanky arm over the Caribbean boy to secure him in place) but instead by reluctance. His reason became clear when he revealed, "I don't understand that movie, it doesn't have any dialogue."

"It has a story, though," Mulligan insisted, keen to defend the movie he had adored as a child and continued to love during adulthood. No matter how hard he attempted to maintain his usual carefree aura, it wasn't too hard to glimpse the sensitivity lurking just below the surface, and it made itself known in the hurt tone of his voice.

Trying to retract any offence he might have caused without compromising his previous statement, John elaborated, "I know it has a plot, but I'm just saying it's easy to lose interest if there aren't any words to listen to."

"And what about me?" Laf quipped, refuting Laurens' argument as he reminded him, "When I first arrived here I didn't speak a word of English, and still you made me watch _Glory_ without subtitles because I'd never seen it." He pouted plaintively and arched an elegant eyebrow.

Rolling his eyes, Laurens reminded him, "It's a brilliant film, you know -"

"I _do_ know!" Lafayette confirmed with a victorious grin which only grew larger as he finished with an affirmative nod, "because I understood that well enough even without words! I'm sure you can tolerate Hercules' film, dialogue or not." He smiled at Hercules and stroked an affectionate hand through his coarse curls, as if silently comforting him, _it's okay, no one is going to spoil your movie._ Then, he slipped off of the couch he shared with Madison and Mulligan, pausing to poke John affectionately in the side and causing him to yelp. Lafayette only laughed and continued towards the DVD player, ejecting Peggy's movie and plucking Mulligan's from the shelf to place it in the slot.

John couldn't find the words to argue with either of his close friends when he noticed the look of something bordering on awe filling Herc's eyes with an ethereal glow. Had he glanced at Lafayette, he would have noticed the delicate pink rising, just visible beyond his dark stubble. Instead, he satisfied himself by shifting to allow Alexander more comfort as he lounged on his chest and settled back to watch the movies.

But the more observant of the group didn't fail to recognize the tell-tale signs of something which indicated more than platonic affection, and as the movie marathon continued into the early hours of the following morning, it was not only Mulligan who was distracted from the viewing due to wondering what exactly had compelled his closest friend to defend him with such unfailing loyalty.


	3. December 3rd

**A/N: Welcome back to day three of our Hamilton Advent Calendar! Behind this metaphorical door we have some Lams time at the café, where we meet a certain Theodosia Bartow for the very first time!**

* * *

 **December 3**

As Aaron Burr dutifully scrubbed at the wooden counter of the café, he decided not for the first time that he resented whichever fool had made the decision to adorn the place with furnishings meant to imitate the interior of a British pub without taking into consideration how painfully easy it was for glazed wood to become littered with stains which required immediate removal or risked becoming permanent features of Fraunces' Tavern. A surface such as marble, or even plastic, would have been preferable, because even _that_ would have required nothing more than a wipe over with a damp cloth. But, as the venue's owner had insisted, it was apparently worth the additional effort of having to scrub hard at the wooden counter for the sake of upholding the pre-independence theme of the café. _Which Mr King_ would _think, seeing as it never actually falls to him to tidy this place._

Even despite his inner reservations, Aaron could not complain - he needed a job, and he had one. Well, he didn't exactly _need_ to be employed from a financial standpoint, as his parents had left him with an inheritance large enough to sustain a modest lifestyle for the rest of his days. But his morals compelled him to treat the monetary rewards they had worked their entire lives to earn with reverence and utmost respect, and apart from when he had spent a somewhat extortionate amount on their funeral, he refused to delve into the savings account which had been transferred to his name when they had died. So, though it was murder on his fingernails and caused a perpetual stiffness to plague his wrist so much so that he hardly even noticed it any more, he didn't dare risk irritating his boss by sharing his unfavourable opinions on the choice of decor lest he decided to fire the young man who disagreed with him. He definitely didn't want to find himself without a job, particularly coming up to Christmas.

 _Sure, working at the Tavern isn't easy_ , Burr reflected, sighing as he redoubled his efforts with the cloth as he slowly walked the length of the counter and cleaned every last imperfection in the surface, _but it_ does _have it's benefits: it's something to do, for one, and on top of that it's the sort of hard work successful people describe as their penance before their big break; it pays reasonably well, keeping me fed and clothed; and the company's not bad either._ He glanced over to Madison, sitting further along the counter and sipping at his own cup of coffee due to the present lull in business. Sensing Burr's gaze upon him, the shorter man looked up briefly and made eye contact with a quick, timid smile, before returning to his reading material. The two men were both intelligent and both prone to being quiet, making them surprisingly good companions during the long shifts they shared.

A chuckle from somewhere behind him reminded Burr of the other company he inevitably encountered on almost every shift: one or multiple members of the raucous group he privately preferred to avoid engaging with when possible, due to the way the entirety of their circle of friendship seemed to relish hollering at the top of their lungs and throwing snide remarks in his direction in almost every conversation. _They were never so loud before Hamilton joined them_. The bizarre way he seemed to charm most of those surrounding him would have been just another one of the many things Burr simply didn't understand yet, but he himself knew Alexander Hamilton well enough to recognize the unrestrained intelligence pouring out of his every orifice, and he could see how it could be endearing when it was not overwhelming or excessively irritating.

On this occasion, the fraction of the group situated within the modernized Tavern was far from complete, consisting only of Alexander and one young man who perhaps seemed marginally more enamoured with him than any other member of their group.

The young man in question was John Laurens, and it appeared to be one of those rare occasions when neither of the work-oriented boys with a borderline unhealthy determination to rise to positions of influence and authority were accompanied by any laptop, book or paper, and they were clearly not throwing away their chance to savour the opportunity to talk without distractions commanding their attention.

The sound of a plume of steam rising from the coffee machine disturbed his internal ponderings and alerted him to the fact that John and Alex's drinks were ready - gingerbread lattes with cream. Burr swiftly made his way to the machine, poured two portions of the festive drink and squirted a generous portion of cream in a meticulously neat swirl onto each one.

Delivering them to the table, he caught the end of what Hamilton's sentence, "- I just found your use of composition so clever. You've got a real talent, Laurens." Sincerity wasn't something the short Caribbean man displayed very often, especially not in Aaron's presence, and as soon as he noticed the man approaching with their drinks, he couldn't stifle the blush which instantly covered his face. His words, usually so confident and collected, were reduced to a low, heavy stuttering as he muttered, "Thanks, Burr."

Laurens snorted with amusement and addressed Burr, "Sorry about my dear Alexander, it appears he's incapable of making words come out of his mouth in a coherent fashion right now." He rolled his eyes, meanwhile his posture contradicted his expression, allowing him to sink further into the sofa and suggesting anything but irritation.

Aaron was half tempted to remark, _Alexander has always been hopeless when it comes to hiding his feelings, it's no surprise he becomes nervous when flattering you._ But there was no point in risking aggravating the man who came disconcertingly close to being the physical embodiment of disagreement, so he let it lay, only giving the pair a knowing smile and retreating.

With nothing better to do, and genuinely intrigued by what the young pair might get up to when they weren't too busy painting or writing respectively, Burr wandered around the counter to lean on the wall beside Madison, quietly settling to observe the youths.

Grinning lazily, Laurens queried, "Alex, what's wrong with your face? It's red." His eyes gleamed with mischief, which only grew as Alexander visibly tried to calm the ferocious colour blooming on his cheeks, wiping his brow and breathing deeply to no avail.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Come on, Alex... You're not embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?" A hint of his southern drawl crept into his words as he teased his best friend, smirking and raising his new coffee cup to his lips. A small blob of cream landed on the tip of his nose as he sipped, and Burr wondered if it wasn't so much an accident as an intentional ploy to get Hamilton to point it out to him.

As predicted, Alexander couldn't refrain from matching Laurens' smirk as he leaned over the coffee table placed between them and swept up the cream with his finger, meeting Laurens' hazel-golden gaze as he popped his creamy finger into his mouth and murmured around the obstacle, "Of course I'm not, you idiot."

Perhaps it was the way Alexander lingered there for just a moment too long as if debating whether or not to lean backwards and return to his seat or forwards, closer to John, or maybe it was the way Laurens reached up to tuck a dark wave which had escaped from the other young man's high ponytail and drifted into his face to sit back beside his ear, but their exchange seemed to exude some emotional connection between them that was something more intense than plain, platonic fondness.

Burr sighed, continuing to examine the two whilst they remained blind to his keen eyes upon them.

Not looking up from his book, Madison spoke mildly to his co-worker, "What do you reckon? A mutual crush, or just really close friends who never learned where to draw the line when it comes to personal space?"

Burr looked at Madison to find him smiling at his pages of literature, evidently knowing precisely what Aaron had been thinking. Madison seemed to have a unique talent for reading people, and though his typically quiet demeanour sometimes left him in the shadow of his friends, his mind was truly not something to be underestimated.

Aaron mulled it over, humming as he drew the gradual conclusion, "Having seen them together and on their own, I'd be inclined to say it was more than a crush. But then..." Burr trailed off in his uncertainty.

Madison was left to finish, "But if they were a couple, I doubt they'd be able to keep their hands off of one another. You know they're both about as reserved as one another." Another idea seemed to strike him as he suggested, "Maybe it's a secret relationship?"

Burr didn't mean to snort with laughter, but he couldn't help it. And he made a valid point when he reminded his companion, "You know as well as I do that Alex can never keep secrets. He might as well have _I love John Laurens_ tattooed on his forehead, and if they were dating I'm sure there would be absolutely nothing stopping him from doing just that!"

Madison chuckled at the very tangible possibility, prepared to admit defeat before a customer walked in, disturbing their quiet conversation and preventing him from doing so as she approached the counter.

Biting her bottom lip and tossing the braids which concealed half of her face behind her shoulder, the young woman leaned towards the two baristas and requested conspiratorially, "I know it's December and you've got all of your Christmas specials up, but I don't suppose you'd be able to serve me whatever your equivalent of a pumpkin spice latte is, would you? I've asked at every Starbucks I've seen, but none of those were any use at all." Her already quiet voice became a venomous mutter of pure loathing as she added, "Stupid chain coffee shops."

With an apologetic shrug, Madison opened his mouth to tell her the very same thing she'd already heard seven times in the past two hours, but the way her deep, dark eyes seemed to shine with unrealized hope compelled Burr to interrupt, "I'm sure we must have some pumpkin syrup somewhere. I'll check for you, Miss."

She flashed a charming grin and revealed perfectly white teeth between her brilliantly red lips as she celebrated prematurely, "Thank you! You probably think I'm ridiculous, and I know I should just forget about it, but I have an insatiable craving for one, you know?"

Aaron was already ransacking the cupboards below the counter and on the back wall, but he tossed an understanding smile over his shoulder as he replied, "We all have days like that, Miss. I definitely don't think you're ridiculous." _All I can think right now is that you are perhaps one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life._ He was as relieved as she was to discover the rich, ochre coloured liquid in a bottle which had not even been opened yet. Silently thanking the stars that he had not been forced to let down the beautiful woman, he returned to the counter, standing opposite her and setting it down before her.

Her smile became even wider, her entire face came to life as if a light had been turned on within her as she locked eyes with him and enthusiastically congratulated, "Nice one, Aaron!" As his brow creased in confusion, she realized without him even having to justify his bemusement what had puzzled him. The observant woman waved towards his chest and explained, "I read your name tag."

Aaron nodded, commenting before the automatic activation of the internal guard which usually prevented him from entering into an actual conversation with the customers, "That was very astute of you, Miss. But you leave me at the disadvantage of not knowing _your_ name when you know _mine_."

In the split second between speaking and hearing the beautiful and intelligent woman's response, Burr regretted his words immensely - they had to be bolder than he had ever intended, because both Alexander and John had torn their gaze away from one another and stared at him in blatant and shameless astonishment.

But then she responded with a musical laugh, and placed a ten dollar bill on the counter as she revealed, "It's Theodosia, if you must know."

"Theodosia. I... Will make your drink." With an uncharacteristically bashful smile, he turned away, sorting her change and then taking the syrup with him as he set about fixing her coffee and scolding himself for behaving like such a fool.

The observed had most definitely become the observers, and Laurens turned to Alexander, his hazel eyes vibrant and awestruck as he murmured, "Burr is being... nice? It's a miracle, it's a Christmas miracle."

Thankfully, that remark missed Aaron's attention. The subsequent one did not.

"Hey, Theodosia!" Burr groaned barely audibly as Hamilton's voice rang through the café, commanding the attention of the beautiful woman at the counter. "Join me and my friend for your drink?"

With nothing more pressing to attend to while she waited, she complied with the request, perching on the arm of the sofa currently holding Alexander. He fixed her with a curious, analytical stare, far less flustered than he had been when interacting with John, and introduced himself, "I am Alexander Hamilton. This is John Laurens, and you've met our boy Burr."

"I am not _your boy_ , Alexander, you have never cared about me enough to address me by that title," Burr called from the counter, making Theodosia giggle in amusement.

"I'm looking out for your best interests here, buddy!" Alexander shot back, and proceeded to mutter to the newcomer with fondness for the other man creeping into his words, "He can be resentful towards me sometimes, the poor guy's too young and blind to see how I'm only trying to help him."

"I'm two years your senior, Alexander," Burr called in the same monotonous, exasperated tone.

Ignoring him completely, Alexander persisted as though Burr had never spoken, "He might be stubborn and reticent, but we love our boy anyway."

" _Your boy_? You know him well, then?" Theodosia asked, interested in the young man who had gone out of his way to satisfy her craving.

"We do. We're in here all the time, and he's a really hard worker, so he's almost always here when we are. He has a law degree too, but he has some dumb idea about _paying his dues_ before actually going for it in terms of careers," Laurens replied, shaking his head at what he deemed to be a foolish notion.

Theodosia was swift to contradict him, however, "Don't act like it's such a bad thing to display a bit of patience. Law is a tricky field of work, and there's no guarantee of continuous income. It makes sense to save up first in case you fall on hard times - I'm doing the same, you kinda have to in my line of work."

She smirked defiantly at the freckled boy, before his companion pressed, "What _is_ your line of work, exactly?"

Her expression became renewed with clear passion for her job as she explained, "I'm a dancer, and I specialize in ballet. But for now, I run workshops in high schools during the days to teach teenagers more modern dance styles, and during the evenings I tutor foreign languages, usually French or Latin."

As Aaron approached with her drink, he couldn't help but be impressed. He set it down in front of her, along with a spiced cookie, which he justified by explaining, "I figured if you were craving pumpkin spice, you might enjoy this to compliment the flavour. It's on the house." He only had eyes for Theodosia as she smiled appreciatively, so he missed the wide eyed look exchanged by the pair he had been passing judgment on not ten minutes ago. He longed to learn more about the entrancing young woman who had sauntered into his life so suddenly, and had just taken his usual spot for joining in the conversation, leaning on the back of the sofa Laurens inhabited, when the door opened again.

All five people in the café turned, and the four who recognized the man had to physically bite back their inner horror:

George King took two seconds to survey the scene before declaring in a very dictatorial manner, "James, your shift is over. Scram, but _do_ remember that you'll be back for this evening. And Burr, don't you have anything more productive to do than pester our customers? I believe it must be that special time of day when the toilet is due a clean, don't you think?" He smiled sweetly at the remaining trio, though none were fooled by the unnerving smile accompanied by cold blue eyes.

Rather than cause a stir, Burr could do nothing but obey the laws enforced by George's iron fist. Wishing he didn't have to sacrifice his opportunity to learn more about Theodosia, Aaron trudged off to set about the unpleasant task assigned to him, whilst George took a seat behind the counter, seemingly deciding to work a shift himself. _Okay, it's hardly convenient, but it's not my place to rock the boat._

Resolving to ignore his unpleasant presence, Alexander and John resumed their interrogation of Theodosia, appearing to have exactly the same idea as each other. Laurens spoke first, "So what do you think of our Aaron? He's a good guy, right, a hard worker, polite, goes against Fraunces' Tavern policy by serving last season's specials to the occasional pretty girl in double denim and combat boots," he gestured to her ensemble, a denim jacket and miniskirt, with leggings to provide her with enough protection to brave the December weather, and chunky tan boots on what could be assumed by her average height were small feet.

"Not bad to look at, either," Alexander added, pouring out his honest compliments on the man's appearance seeing as he was out of earshot, "He's a pretty beautiful man, if you ask me. Not my type, obviously, not enough hair, but it's not like he's got a weirdly shaped head, and his eyes are very attractive, and I happen to know that he works out, I promise you he's ripped underneath that shirt of his, and his face just sort of fits together nicely -"

"He's well proportioned, it's a pleasure to draw him - I should know," John chipped in.

Beginning to be overwhelmed, Theodosia chuckled and interrupted both of them, "Okay, I agree, Aaron is a charming and attractive man! What more do you want from me?"

The boys exchanged a look, non-verbally confirming their next request. It was Alexander who suggested, "Your number might be nice. Burr's busy right now, but I'm sure he'd love to call you some time." Lowering his voice slightly, he confessed, "It's not often he's truly flustered by a girl. Obviously you don't owe him anything simply because he's attracted to you, but please, _do_ consider it. He's a good guy underneath all of his stupid quirks."

"Misunderstood. But really, he has a lot of potential to be a great man," Laurens added.

Theodosia pretend to ponder it, but realistically she knew her answer immediately. Bemused, she pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket and scribbled down a few digits. Setting it down on the table between them, she remarked, "Anyone who indulges my bizarre coffee whims and gives me a free cookie is deserving of my time and attention. Now," she checked her watch, and noticing the time she excused herself, "I've got to get going. There's a class in need of a teacher in thirty minutes." Walking away from the pair, she called, "Bye Alex, John. And say bye to Aaron for me!"

With that, she disappeared from Fraunces' Tavern café for the first time, but definitely not for the last.

* * *

 **A/N: What cuties, right?**

 **So obviously you may imagine these characters however you like, but personally my basis for the physical appearance of Theo senior is Leslie Odom Junior's wife, Nicolette Robinson. She is absolutely stunning. Seriously. Oh gosh, and they're expecting a baby now too! Eeeeeee!**

 **And may we just take a moment to appreciate the glorious thing that is the Hamilton Mixtape? Goodness, I cannot even express the sheer majesty contained within those songs. I think my favourites are Valley Forge, Wrote my way out, Burn, Congratulations and Immigrants but honestly that selection just keeps changing.**

 **Also DON'T MIND ME, I'M JUST CRYING OVER HERE BECAUSE OF THE STUNNING AND GLORIOUS WORK OF MY INCREDIBLE FRIEND KRISTA, WHO NEVER FAILS TO BLOW ME AWAY WITH HER UNBELIEVABLE TALENT AND KINDNESS ALIKE! You should go to look at her stories, her username is Minniemora and her writing is astounding.**

 **I hope you're enjoying this! It's is a large part of the reason my updates to Foreign Affairs have been so slow for so long!**


	4. December 4th

**A/N: Hey there, reader! Looks like you just opened the fourth metaphorical door on this literary advent calendar! And inside is a chapter focused primarily on our dearest, Angelica Schuyler! (Who is in some major denial about her problematic boyfriend and her "crush" on our Hammy...)**

* * *

 **December 4**

The following morning saw Alexander Hamilton visiting the Tavern once again, though this time he kept vastly different company. It was Angelica Schuyler who presently occupied the couch opposite his, and unlike John Laurens the previous day, she did not have his undivided attention, nor he hers, as rather than conversing freely, both were deeply engrossed in proof-reading the other's latest piece of writing:

Hamilton had been preoccupied with writing a draft of how to make the law firm he worked at more financially efficient, with a series of money-saving modifications which, if George and Martha Washington agreed to his suggestions, could be implemented in the new year.

Schuyler, on the other hand, was embarking on a new career to supplement her existing job as a personal shopping assistant in a large department store. Her boyfriend, John Church, had procured her the well-paid position due to his father's ownership of the shop, however she had quickly learned that it did not fully satisfy her craving for intellectual expression. Hence her recent procuring of a part time job with a newspaper, for which she wrote articles during her spare time.

Only James Madison was serving on that day, and as per usual, there was a lull in customers at that time of day, between the time those in search of an early pick-me-up to lend them energy for the sleepy Sunday morning and those taking a break from the exhausting task of Christmas shopping traipsed through the coffee shop's front door. So, with no duties more urgent than mopping up a tea spillage to undertake, James soon found his attention drifting, leading him to his usual pastime during his more quiet shifts: people watching.

There was only a small selection of customers dotted around the café: a man typing furiously and causing his laptop to rock on his knees, an elderly woman clearing the steam from her glasses using an edge of her hijab, a teenager holding a baby to his chest and humming what James interpreted to be a soft rendition of _Santa baby_ to lull the infant to sleep.

And then, as he had already noted, there was Angelica and Alexander, hogging the majority of the warmth provided by the heaters at the rear of the Tavern between the two of them. Every now and then, one reached over to the other, nudging them and suggesting an improvement or asking a question. And in those fleeting moments when her gaze locked with his, a flicker of heat, a spark of true mental connection, passed between them, their mutual intelligence bringing them to unite their critical minds.

Madison was an observant young man, and he didn't fail to register the hint of longing in the way Angelica spoke the young Caribbean man's name. Typically, she hid it so well that only very few exceptionally perceptive people such as Madison himself had any inkling of her inner feelings whatsoever - though in reality, his assumptions would emerge to be slightly skewed away from the truth.

Alexander himself was apparently oblivious to what Madison perceived to be a crush. All he did was match her fluttering touches, her mischievous smiles, all the while achieving his desire to preserve himself free from particular attachments. It was not his intention to ignite flames of desire within her, nor to mirror her somewhat flirtatious behaviour, and she could see herself that the light, playful way he teased her paled into insignificance when compared to the way he practically fell over himself to ensure John Laurens noticed him and his abundantly clear affection for him. It simply happened to be that Alexander Hamilton was a naturally coquettish character, and she appeared to be just another unfortunate victim of the snare he accidentally set up to trap so many innocent victims.

Yet if she were to be totally and completely honest with herself, she would discover that it was not truly _Alexander_ that she longed for (though she was undeniably charmed by his intelligent eyes and hungry pursuit of ascension), but the _idea_ of him and everything that came with it:

She longed for excitement and contentment, a student and a teacher, a challenge and a prize, a rival and a teammate; in short, everything that _wasn't_ John Church. It just happened to be the case that Alexander seemed to almost embody all she wished for - almost, but not quite - thus she projected that hint of desire which seeped through her steely exterior onto him.

A part of her knew that it wasn't right, and had she ever suspected her sisters of being in similar situations, she would have urged them to swallow their pride and follow their hearts. But personally, she found it infinitely more convenient to pretend that her unabating dissatisfaction was the fault of one man as opposed to the reality; Namely, that her own stubborn determination to uphold the illusion of perfection had doomed her to refrain from admitting the dreariness of her existence, thus fating her to remain trapped in her present relationship despite having long been tired of it.

Somehow, lying to herself seemed so much easier than admitting that she had allowed herself to become set in a life she no longer wanted.

Forcing her mind to see the words typed on the paper in her hands as just that - plain, flat words on paper rather than eloquent phrases which danced around her and reminded her just how talented he was - Angelica turned the pages around so that he could see them and asked, "Are you certain that upgrading the printers in the office will be an effective money saving measure? The model you've indicated here is truly extortionate."

"I know that," Hamilton returned, scrunching up his face in mild irritation, "but it also states in a few lines that the model is shown to be the most energy efficient currently available on the market, using only a fraction of the electricity of our current ones. And what's more, that upgraded version uses much less ink, and on top of that it would be compatible with various brands, meaning that the firm would be able to shop around for the very best deal." He argued his point well, prompting her to glance back to the page and revisit her query.

"Fair enough, but here's another question for you: did you actually mean to place this comma here?" She smirked, amused by his mistake as she pointed out the fleck of black he had inserted when he had meant to press the _m_ key but found himself too tired and numb to distinguish between them with his fumbling thumbs.

He groaned, causing her to giggle as he accused, "Like _you've_ never placed a comma erroneously. We all make mistakes, Angie." He pouted, reduced to the maturity of an infant when his flaws were illuminated.

The young woman nodded slowly, squinting at his written words and considering his spoken ones, reaching the conclusion that he was correct - he _was_ allowed to have faults, and she had no right to judge when she had several of her own.

As for Alexander, he found his friend's writing to be completely faultless, not a single typo, grammatical error, or improperly placed piece of punctuation. Her article, highlighting and criticising the objectification of women in modern society, was as eloquent as his own work, and he was genuinely impressed by it, a detail made evident by his raised eyebrows as he read further down the page. "This is seriously good, Angie. You could honestly make some real money in the journalism industry if you dedicated yourself to this completely and gave up the job you're only staying in because your boyfriend wants you to."

She shook her head, a bittersweet smile emerging on her lips as she insisted, "I can't give up my actual job. You know as well as I do that it would just wind up John, and besides, it _can_ actually be fun playing dress up with real people." _Sometimes. Or perhaps I'm just thinking of when I have a chance to use_ _my staff discount._

"Only because you know that most of the men you deal with are richer and hotter than your current boyfriend," he shot back, seeing directly through her feigned optimism regarding the job she often found heartbreakingly boring.

"Hey, that's not _completely_ true: some of them are wealthy enough that they don't have to care about their appearance at all, and those ones are definitely _not_ hotter than John," she countered.

Alexander snorted, sceptical, and clarified, "Are you sure about that?" His friend instantly glared at him, defensive, and he swiftly changed track with a loud groan, simultaneously sympathetic and exasperated. "That's precisely the type of customer that you _will_ attract if you work in a store that's so revoltingly overpriced. I swear, Angelica, if it weren't for _you_ charming all the clients, they would have shut down years ago. _Three_ years ago, to be precise."

"Well, it's just as well I'm there then, isn't it?" She shot back, a complete lack of real irritation in her words as she turned a dubious look onto him. But angered or not, Alexander knew better than to argue with her over this particular matter: for no reason he could discern, she had resolved to do anything to keep her boyfriend happy, and no matter how much her friends and family alike questioned her, she refused to ever admit that she knew just like everyone else who had ever witnessed the uncomfortably awkward exchanges between the couple that she deserved so much better than John Church.

* * *

The lunchtime rush came and went, and studiously examining one another's work had turned into light, chatty conversation for Angelica and Alexander. Madison's shift dragged on, and still he had little to occupy his time. That is, until his closest friend arrived to temporarily free him from the profuse and inescapable dullness which inevitably accompanied the more quiet shifts at Fraunces' Tavern.

Thomas sauntered into the Tavern with an air about him that only an aristocrat with his decadent upbringing could carry with him, seating himself at the counter on a stool opposite where Madison stood, a wide, relaxed grin sitting comfortably on his mouth as he drawled in greeting, "Mads, my favourite barista of all! What's up, bro? You look absolutely bored out of your skull. Another abysmal day here at the Tavern, I suppose?"

Nodding, James grimaced as he agreed, "Quite right. But what brings you here? I would have thought you'd be busy with the Louisiana. Christmas decorations don't put themselves up, you know."

 _The Louisiana_ happened to be the club Jefferson owned, and he had named it as a testimony to his talent for bargaining; He had haggled the previous owner down to a disgustingly low price, and now he reaped the rewards of owning the successful, lucrative business. And, evidently, he also handled the complications which were part and parcel of running a business.

"Don't I just," Jefferson moaned, rubbing his temple and slumping down to half lay on the counter as he explained, "Oh my actual God, I _had_ to get away from that place. I couldn't tolerate it for a single moment longer. It's been hard enough just choosing the colour scheme for the decorations. Honestly, Jemmy, the things some people have suggested..." His pent up exasperation came pouring from him in a flood of irritation as he complained, "I hired professional venue decorators who could come up with nothing but tacky paper chains and cardboard cut outs of Santa! It's a classy place, not some child's birthday party!"

Empathetic, Madison set about fetching Jefferson's usual festive favourite, a peppermint mocha, and asked, "Did you choose a design, though? Eventually?"

"At long last, yes," the other man confirmed. "But after all of today's struggles, there's not a chance of me actually getting _involved_ with the decorating of the place. I'll leave that onerous task to my staff."

From the table in front of the disused fireplace, a certain pair found themselves unable to contain their snorts of amusement at the haughty way Jefferson so arrogantly excused himself from any type of physical labour. Yet instead of showing any hint of annoyance, Thomas' plaintive countenance instantly brightened as he turned and recognized the young woman who had laughed at him. Ignoring her companion, he called over, "Forgive me, Miss Schuyler, I didn't realize I was in the company of one so gorgeous. I wouldn't have committed the sacrilegious act of speaking of anything negative when in such close proximity to an Angel if I had only known." She turned to him, surprised and thoroughly unimpressed by his impromptu speech, and something about her ashen, critical expression forced him to break eye contact with the woman who exuded dominance. Instead, his gaze found that of his friend, and he muttered conspiratorially, "How could you be bored with _that_ sitting right there?"

Unfortunately for him, Angelica's sharp ears picked up the quiet remark he had never intended for her to hear, and at once a feeling of intense disappointment crashed over her, though within a heartbeat it was joined by her inner outrage. Raising her voice, she demanded, "Did you just refer to me as _that_?"

Anyone with an ounce of humility (or sense, for that matter) would have backed down as soon as they sensed the fire in her eyes and heard the poison dripping from her lips. But that was simply not Jefferson's way of handling things. Seeing nothing wrong with his comment, he shrugged and foolishly confirmed, "Yes. I did. It's called a compliment, and I'd assume that's a concept you're familiar with." He bit his lip and his eyebrows raised, radiating allure as he remarked boldly, "I guess you're blown away. Can't say I blame you - girls always _are_ when I show an interest. And damn, am I interested in you, doll..."

Angelica couldn't find the words to respond for a few heartbeats. Alexander recognized the crease forming in her brow and the downturned corners of her lips to foreshadow one thing, however, and he took the opportunity to helpfully warn his enemy, "Yeah, you're about to see just how blown away she is..."

"A _compliment_?" She recovered her ability to speak. "Calling me _that_ is what you consider a _compliment_?" Though she knew Thomas' type well enough that she shouldn't have been surprised, she couldn't help her stunned reaction to his ignorance. Words failed her at the critical moment, but fortunately she already had a perfectly formed response printed off and sitting in her hand. So, rather than scramble for some incoherent verbal response, she rose from her seat and marched over to him, thrusting her article into his hands and commanding, "Read. If you possess the ability to do so, that is."

Utterly confounded, he did as he was told, and as he progressed through her article, the basis for her irritation became clear. By the time he had finished, he felt genuinely enlightened as to the inner thoughts of women, something he had never cared for much previously. But now, in an unprecedented turn of events provoked by the way her accusatory gaze seemed to stare into his soul, penetrate his mind and cast an unflattering judgment, he actually swallowed his pride and lowered his gaze much like a guilty puppy as he murmured, "You're smart, and I'm an idiot."

"I'm _so_ glad you finally realized," Hamilton called out from where he remained in his seat, watching the scene unfold.

She ignored Hamilton and regarded Jefferson sternly as she insisted, "You had better not make the same mistake again. To me, or anyone else, or I _will_ find out, and I _will_ punish you."

"Understood," he nodded sombrely, actually convincing her that he was truly determined to uphold his word. However, the moment of sincerity ended as swiftly as it had begun, as a smirk crept hesitantly back to his lips and he added, "What I _meant_ to say is that you are the most stunning girl I've ever laid eyes on, and I don't understand how Madison couldn't keep his boredom at bay by staring at you - I know it would keep _me_ occupied for hours." He raised an eyebrow suggestively, hoping with childish naivety that she might fall for his shameless, shambolic flirting.

Instead, she rebuked him, curtly informing him, "You really _are_ an idiot, and you will definitely not get anywhere with me, Thomas, even if your frankly terrible pick up lines were halfway to being decent. I am in a serious relationship, I do not need some immature man-child chasing after me. You're just embarrassing yourself." _As nice as flattery is, it's just empty words. Nothing worth sacrificing a three year relationship for,_ she told herself, forcing a mask of total indifference to shield any true emotions.

Thomas just shrugged, his casual, easy grin brightening his face with sturdy self-confidence which refused to be killed or swept aside, and returned her article to her. Then, he picked up his coffee cup and decided, "I think I'd better leave you in peace for now. But don't worry, Angie. You'll love me some day, everyone always does."

"I don't!" Alexander called from where he had observed the proceedings, but Jefferson was already retreating, the door closing behind him before Hamilton's words even reached him.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy December 4th! (Well actually I'm writing this on September 16th, this story is founded on lies but shhhhhh.)**

 **Oooh delving into Angelica is interesting... maybe a little confusing too. Let me clarify, she's not exactly in love with him, but because he comes close to the kind of life she wants, she lusts for the idea of him, rather than Alexander himself. I just really didn't want her to be all piney and sad at Christmas, hence there not being a plain old crush.**

 **Yes, Jefferson's club refers to the Louisiana purchase, because I just couldn't resist chucking that in there. And just in case you were wondering how I envisaged modern John B Church, he's gonna be something like a young Boris Johnson... And as for the shop Angelica works in, I imagine it as some overly expensive department store which only stocks high end brands and also has a large range of designer clothes... I don't know if such a shop exists irl, but I feel as though it's convenient for this story!**

 **Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read this, and thanks so so much for anyone who followed, favourited or left a review on this! It motivates me more than you know!**

 **And by the by, if you're wondering about when our dear, sweet, bored, observant, quiet little (cough ooc cough) Jemmy Madison is going to step into the spotlight, it's very soon...**


	5. December 5th

**A/N: Happy December 5th! I'm trying to get these uploaded as close as possible to midnight specifically because I feel guilty about making Ash Lyn wait! And speaking of waiting, we have a Burr-centric chapter coming up!**

 **Oh, I realized that I never explained the café name. It's called Fraunces' Tavern because that was supposedly the name of the place where My Shot occurs! Just a little fun fact!**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing and being wonderful, I am so thankful for you!**

* * *

 **December 5**

"John," Alexander mumbled his name around the pen lid in his mouth, so distracted from Laurens and his endearing personality that he didn't even raise his eyes to look at him, instead too absorbed in the notebook he was scribbling in so hastily with his right hand while he held his third espresso in his left. His eyes were peppered with thin, hairline streaks of red veins, the result of both his sleepless night and his caffeine fuelled morning, and it looked as though he hadn't even bothered to drag a comb through his unruly locks before he forced them into a messy bun.

Laurens knew from experience that this was simply one of those days where he had to be patient and lenient with his best friend rather than scold his obvious neglect of his personal health: there had been a thunderstorm last night, and they all knew that he could never sleep through them. He probably didn't even have to complete whatever work he was so engrossed in any time soon, but following the occasional nights in which chaos struck the streets of New York, he always forced himself to redouble his already restless pace of attainment, as if to remind himself that his life had a purpose now, and a direction, and that he was needed. So, instead of being at all irritated by the way his best friend didn't look at him when addressing him, Laurens simply replied, "Alexander?"

"You're staring at me."

John chuckled softly, a sweet sound which slowed the rapid speed of Alexander's wrist for just a fraction of a heartbeat, and remarked without being hesitant or bashful, "Yes, I am. That's because you're a hot mess and so I'm drawing you, my dearest Alexander. I kind of _have_ to stare at you to do that." He spoke slowly, emphasizing every word as he knew Alex was prone to forgetting to listen. He shrugged, not that Alexander noticed. His words weren't strictly true, either: Laurens drew Hamilton so frequently that he could have managed to sketch him almost perfectly just from memory, but he refused to pass up the opportunity to use the real life Alexander as a reference for his drawing.

Alexander was silent for a while, save for the noise of his pen scratching over the paper, evaluating John's response absentmindedly, before eventually muttering, "Fine. Just... do it subtly."

Ordinarily, he would have bathed in the glory of having John's undivided attention laid upon him, but after his uncomfortable night, he was not quite feeling himself. It wasn't his fault, and John knew it wasn't his aim to hurt him, but he couldn't repress the twinge of pain in his chest at what seemed to be Alexander shirking his expression of fondness and admiration for him. None of the turmoil he was feeling manifested in his words, however, and he calmly agreed, "I'll do my best."

"Alexander, give him a break, let the poor man draw you in peace," Aaron Burr chastised, wandering over to their table and taking a free space beside John, glancing at the vague, pale outlines of his sketch as he did so. "And while he does, why don't you give him a chance to look at you when your hands aren't moving at a mile a minute and take a break, hmm?" Burr offered him a large, steaming, milky mug of coffee, evidently resolving to place it in no location other than Alexander's active hand.

"Wrong table. I didn't order -"

"I know you didn't, but that doesn't mean you don't need it," Burr urged. When Hamilton showed no sign of taking the hot beverage, Burr resorted to reminding him, "I owe you, right? You got me Theodosia's number, the least I can do is pump you full of disgustingly sugary coffee. And hey, that way you might stop acting so strangely, and then I'm paying John back at the same time."

Aaron smiled sympathetically at Laurens, understanding how he might feel rejected by the way his crush prioritized his work over their friendship. When Alexander reluctantly gave in and took the drink, Laurens felt gratitude enough to return it. "Burr's right, Alex. You can afford to relax - it's the season of peace and goodwill for all mankind. Which does actually include you."

"It's also a time of holiness for people of certain creeds," Alexander reminded them both, visibly allowing the tension to leave his small frame as the sugary latte laden with sweet vanilla syrup swept through him, bringing with it a sense of comfort and safety. He quickly returned to his usual self as he steered the subject in the direction he wanted, "Speaking of holiness, there's something I'm very interested to know; how _is_ the radiant Theodosia?" Burr looked away, causing Alexander to lean forwards insistently as he checked, "You _have_ spoken to her, right?"

Mumbling, his words muffled somewhat by the metaphorical wall he had suddenly assembled, Aaron awkwardly excused his negligence of the enchanting woman, "I've been busy."

"Well you're not busy right now, you're killing time on your shift with us," John instantly fired back, not even pausing to wonder if it was an ordinary thing to refer to himself and Alexander as _us_.

"Let me guess, you didn't want to seem too keen in case she knocked you back," Alexander correctly deduced, rolling his eyes in tandem with Laurens as Aaron nodded reluctantly.

Instead of scolding the man, John encouraged, "Text her, now, and ask if she's free to come to the Tavern, or if she would be later, or say you're about to go on your break and want some company. You can start out slowly, just be casual until you see her in person." _That's how I initially became close to Alexander. Oh, maybe that's bad advice seeing as now I'm hopelessly in love and too proud to admit it._

"And for God's sake, you had better ask her out the next time that happens," Alexander added. "We got you her number, but that is where the line must be drawn. It's down to you now, so if you like this woman, go get her." His eyes burned with sincerity, his full faith that Aaron _did_ in fact like Theodosia and the hope that _she_ might potentially feel the same becoming clear.

Burr sighed, though he smiled at the prospect, and pulled his mobile from his pocket. He quickly typed a couple of sentences, and pressed send without clarifying whether or not the message was the right kind of thing to send to her by consulting with his friends. "There," he grunted sarcastically, "Are you satisfied?" _Not that I need their advice when it appears that neither of these two can tell when the man they love is equally besotted with him as he his. I'm perfectly reliable with the ladies on my own. Once I actually convince them to date me, that is._

Glimpsing a shape beyond Burr, Alexander smirked and decided, "Not quite. Just you wait."

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, the door opened, at the very same time the familiar ping of a text message alert rang out amongst the relatively low levels of noise in the café. Turning around in preparation to resume his shift and serve a new customer, Burr was stunned to see the very woman he had just contacted entering the building, as if summoned there by his longing to be reunited with her.

She smirked playfully at him as she read aloud from her phone, "Theodosia, it's Aaron from Fraunces' Tavern. I'm bored on my shift, I don't suppose you're in the area and with another craving for out of season drinks to brighten my day with a visit? Winky emoji." Biting her lip and squinting analytically, she revealed, "I didn't have you down as an emoji kind of guy, Aaron."

From behind them, through lips which barely moved and produced only the smallest sound, Alexander whispered, "What are you waiting for?"

Shutting him out, Aaron followed his own instincts, closing the distance between himself and Theodosia within a few wide paces. Once she was within reach, he refused to allow her beauty to render him illiterate, and reached for her hands. She didn't stiffen or pull away, which he took as permission to continue, "Theodosia, there's a lot you don't know about me, including my tactile use of emoticons. But we can change that so easily if you would only go on a date with me. What do you say, are you free tonight?" Every last fibre in his body seemed to wither within him, and he felt the full force of his internal cringe throughout the entirety of his being. Externally, however, be miraculously maintained a charming smile, brightened with a glimmer of hope.

She raised an eyebrow, and quipped, "That's awfully bold for the guy who didn't try to contact me until two days after getting my number." She pouted, considering the offer. _He's cute, that's clear. He's sweet, and charming, and his friends seem to love him - sort of._ Nodding, she decided, "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I can meet you here at eight, and then you can take me out to dinner. I'm dressing up, so don't disappoint me." She winked, and then proceeded to stroll past him and throw herself onto the sofa beside Alexander. "And if it's not too much trouble, I'll take you up on the offer of an out of season drink." She smiled, and suddenly Aaron couldn't remember why he had expressed any irritation whatsoever to the two hopeless men who had urged him to contact Theodosia Bartow.

* * *

Eight hours later, sitting in a suitably classy restaurant, Aaron felt more like an immortal than a mere man; the longer he spent in the company of Miss Bartow, the more apparent it became that anyone lucky enough to spend a prolonged period of time in her company had to be someone she considered extraordinary. The rewards of sitting opposite her in that intimate restaurant were so infinitely plentiful that he was convinced that only someone who could match her endearing personality and ethereal appearance was worthy of being there with her. _She must have made some mistake in choosing to be here with me,_ he reflected, _but I am patient enough that I will let her reach that conclusion in her own time._

So, determined that he would have some impact on the incredible woman, he interrupted their easy, flowing conversation to gaze deep into her hypnotic brown eyes and declare with deep, unabashed sincerity he so rarely displayed, "Theodosia, you are perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure to meet. And tonight, of all our meetings, is the occasion when you truly look so stunning that you take my breath away." It was true - her braided hair was partially twisted into an intricate knot atop her head while the remainder fell elegantly over her shoulders like waterfalls caressing a cliff face, her lips were a splash of smiling magenta in her flawless skin, her eyes radiated light reflected from his own, and her dress, a conservative, form fitting white number, was effortlessly graceful. Although his own outfit was equally smart and attractive, he felt underdressed when in her company.

She smiled and shook her head, insisting, "Flattery will not get you anywhere, Aaron. It's a touch naive, I think." Her sparkling eyes told an entirely different story, however, and she sensed her face glowing with the heat of a blush which Burr himself had provoked through the exact method she had just dismissed. Curious, she asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty four," he replied, shrugging and smiling confidently as he added, "Regardless of my age, I am _not_ naive - I know plenty about the workings of this earth, both pleasant and otherwise. And as a result, I know that it would be foolish not to tell an amazing woman such as yourself precisely how miraculous you look."

Theodosia giggled coquettishly, tucking her braids behind her ear and meeting Aaron's gaze, fully absorbing his words. It was rare that he allowed himself to be unguarded, but in Theodosia's presence he was helpless, and she saw nothing but true conviction in his face, something so intense and raw that it caused her heart to flutter. But rather than focusing on the part of his sentence which caused her chest to pound so loudly that she could hear it herself, she checked incredulously, "Twenty four? You seem far more mature than that!"

"So I'm _not_ naive, then?" Aaron clarified, challenging her with a flirtatiously raised eyebrow.

She chuckled and shook her head as she volunteered the information, "I'm twenty seven." She pouted playfully and decided, "three years younger than me - I think that makes you my baby."

Aaron had raised his glass to his lips, but almost spat out his wine as he noted she referred to him as hers. Licking his lips rather than embarrassing himself with clumsy behaviour, he revealed flirtatiously, "I'll happily be a baby if it means I'm yours. You know, I _am_ and always will be a trust fund baby, you can trust me."

That prompted Theodosia to laugh properly, loudly distracting other clients from their meals as she asked accusingly, "Do you use that line on _all_ the girls? I hope for your sake the answer is no, because it's dangerously close to being sickeningly cheesy."

Grimacing, Burr admitted, "It's just as well you're the first one I've used it on, then." Recovering himself, he bashfully confessed, "I don't normally try this hard to impress dates. But Theodosia, you..." He trailed off, looking into his lap and trying to find the courage to be bold, just as Alexander and John had told him.

Yet in that brief pause, Theodosia saw exactly what was coming. With a knife of guilt stabbing suddenly into the pit of her stomach and causing her beaming face to fall, she gently urged, "Aaron, don't -"

"Theodosia, you are -"

"Coming on this date was a selfish mistake. I'm sorry, Aaron, I shouldn't have messed you around like this, but I think it's best that you forget whatever it is you're thinking," she pleaded, her usual self assured persona faltering in the face of his youthful hope.

Confusion furrowing his brow, he was disinclined to comply with her request, starting again, "Theodosia, I -"

"I'm in a relationship, Aaron," she blurted, causing his confession to die on his frozen lips. With disconcerting speed, she watched his expression turn from open and warm to cool and unreadable. To anyone else, he would have successfully presented himself as unaffected by her bombshell, but having witnessed the sudden shift, she knew better. Regret weighing heavily in her every word, she began to apologise, "I know I've been so stupid to flirt with you, I honestly didn't mean to hurt you." _You just seemed so sweet and so different, I couldn't help myself._

Aaron regarded her with his placid, calm expression, before forcing a smile she could see straight past. Even so, to preserve his dignity she did not question him as he insisted, "It's quite alright. I'm sure you just couldn't say no to my charms when I asked you out." He released a self-depreciating chuckle, an attempt to imitate indifference which failed miserably. "There was no malice intended and no damage done. I have had a lovely evening anyway, so thank you for your company."

She longed to say something more, but words failed her. Instead, she reluctantly nodded, as though she was the one who had just been rejected by him rather than the other way round. They exchanged no further words apart from when Burr insisted on paying the bill.

And then, when they stood, they left in their separate directions, turning away from each other and turning their backs also on the budding shoots of romance which had been tentatively growing. Had they been nurtured, something beautiful might have blossomed amidst the otherwise impenetrable darkness of winter.

Instead, Aaron Burr was left pulling his winter coat tightly around himself, turning up the collar to hide his disappointed face from the bleak world. His desolate demeanour was a sharp contrast to the world around him, a world of warm Christmas lights adorning the streets and of soft, festive music winding clandestinely from an unidentifiable source.

Regardless of the jubilant atmosphere surrounding him, Burr was as devoid of happiness as the starless sky above as he grimly reflected, _this, this right here, is why you don't ever take advice from Alexander Hamilton._


	6. December 6th

**A/N: OH YOU GUYS I'M SO SORRY ABOUT BURR! I guess I should have warned you... but don't worry, it's all in hand! But first, the return of Eliza and Maria!**

 **This chapter is my first ever attempt at writing two women like this! It's been fun because OH GOSH THEY'RE BOTH SO CUTE IT JUST MAKES ME HAPPY. FYI, Maria Reynolds in this story is as sweet as Eliza once you peel back her prickly layers of self preservation because I love her so much to be honest. And there are very very subtle hints about her past, which we will soon be exploring! Hope it's more cheery than yesterday's!**

* * *

 **December 6**

Having just come from the shop where Angelica worked to purchase their dresses for the annual Christmas party held in their Albany mansion later in the month, Elizabeth and Margarita Schuyler decided to make the most of their journey into the more commercial area of the city to do some of their Christmas shopping. At present, their quest for the perfect presents had lead the sisters to a store which evidently stocked every item which could possibly be considered a gift, from designer handbags to cuddly toys to chocolate boxes and everything in between. Seeking nothing in particular, the two young women were happy to spend idle hours trawling through the aisles, stopping to examine anything which might be appropriate to give to someone.

It was Peggy who spotted a children's stationery set decorated with blue and yellow turtles, and picked it up, holding it up for Eliza to pass judgment on as she asked, "Do you think a certain Mr Laurens might appreciate this?" She blinked innocently, as if she wasn't genuinely considering buying the set for a grown man, though the reality was the very opposite.

Eliza giggled as she imagined the idea of the freckled man receiving the gift, his face lighting up with childish enthusiasm as he looked to her little sister in joyful disbelief. Confident in her friend's easily amused personality and his inability to be anything less than delighted by what he would recognize as a playful gift, she decided, "I think he'd love it. And I know Angie has already bought him a cuddly turtle in a Santa hat, so that would go perfectly."

The younger girl grinned, and returned to the shelf from whence the stationery set had been found, pulling from beside it a nearly identical set, this time holding pens and pencils decorated with yellow lions. Elizabeth knew before Peggy suggested it that her next question would be to ask whether or not Alexander would appreciate the similar set with his own animal of preference scattered over the set. Before she could even ask the question, Elizabeth was nodding enthusiastically and chuckling at the image of her less easy to please friend receiving the present and being slightly bemused, before catching sight of Laurens' almost matching gift and eagerly using the similarities between them as an excuse to sit beside John to compare their stationery. "Yes. Do it!"

Peggy added the two sets to the small pile in her arms, which so far consisted of a pair of white leather gloves with a faux fur trim for Angelica, a selection of _James Bond_ books for Hercules, and a silk scarf printed with part of the script to _Les Misérables_ for Lafayette.

The pair continued to scour the shop for anything eye-catching, and as they did so, Eliza wondered aloud, "Do you think there's anything Aaron wants?"

Not missing a beat, Peggy stated, "Some girl named Theodosia." Smirking mischievously as she snickered, she divulged for her visibly inquisitive sister, "According to Alex, she strolled into the Tavern and really captured his affections. She's gorgeous, apparently, and she made Burr so flustered that it was left to him him and John to set them up on a date!"

But instead of joining in the laughter, anxious concern darkened Eliza's expression, and she murmured softly, "Do you suppose that she might be the reason he looked so upset this morning?" As her sister shrugged, she elaborated, "I popped into Fraunces' earlier, and you would have thought his entire world had just been torn away from him..."

Surprised, Peggy asked, "Was it that obvious that he was upset? That's pretty uncharacteristic for him."

The elder sister shook her head, explaining, "The poor man kept smiling, bless his poor soul, but you could tell it hurt. His eyes just looked... I suppose _empty_ is the only way to describe it. I didn't want to pry." Her voice dropping as she muttered darkly under her breath, she confessed, "Now I wish I had. I'd _love_ to know some more about whatever girl could hurt Aaron - he's got his faults, but he doesn't deserve _that_." There was a protective edge to her words; Elizabeth was by no means a confrontational person, yet she had an instinct to defend those she became attached to. Evidently, that extended to Aaron Burr.

With a sympathetic sigh, Peggy wrapped an arm around her sister in a half embrace, reminding her gently, "You know he'll pick himself up again. And in the meantime, we can tip him extra generously, right?"

Warmed by her sister's kind optimism, Eliza smiled and nodded. "Right. And speaking of people we tip, what about James Madison? He _has_ to get a present, but I don't know what he likes, either."

"You don't know _much_ about our friends, do you, Betsey?" Peggy teased, lightening the sombre mood with a cheeky comment, before actually considering it. "Come to think of it, I guess Madison is a bit of an enigma too. And unlike Burr, he doesn't even _try_ to be - he's just very quiet." Humming as she considered it, she pointed out, "You can never go wrong with chocolate, right?"

"Unless the person you give it to happens to be lactose intolerant, and coincidentally I know that Madison actually is," Eliza replied, victorious as she poked Peggy's nose and taunted affectionately, " _Now_ who knows nothing about our friends, hmm?"

Peggy wrinkled her nose up in confusion as she stated flatly, "How could I have known that when he works in a café? I think it's reasonable to assume the thing which surrounds him doesn't pose a threat." Becoming increasingly lost the more she considered the thoroughly random crumb of information, she enquired, "In fact, how do _you_ know that?"

"I just do," she revealed, with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. Her pride only increased as she playfully feigned surprise when she noted, "Which incidentally makes _me_ the more informed of us two, my dearest little sister."

Rolling her eyes while unable to conceal an amused smirk, Peggy complained, "Stop being smart, or I won't even buy you a Christmas present."

"Fine! I'll just form a club with James and Aaron and everyone else you end up forgetting!" The elder of the pair by two years retorted, poking her tongue out and giggling as her younger sister mirrored her.

Summoning all of her acting ability, Peggy stifled another laugh, forcing a stern crease to form on her brow instead and drawing herself up to her full height (which was still two inches shorter than Eliza) and demanded strictly, "Fine, if that's how you want to be, you can just leave."

Eliza's trusting heart apparently couldn't see past the poor pretence at irritation with the same analytical precision her elder sister would have managed, and uncertainty clouded her naive gaze, eliciting sympathy from the girl she herself was prone to tease. Softening, Peggy assured her kindly, "Seriously, I need you to go away for a while because I saw something I think you'd like and I want to buy it before I have to go into work, which is in fifteen minutes."

A trace of panic struck her as she realized she'd left so little time, but the carefree young woman swiftly recalled that the Washingtons weren't exactly likely to be angry at her: she'd worked so hard for them since starting her internship at the law firm a few months ago that both George and Martha had developed a deep fondness for her. She was one of "The Family" now, along with every other employee of Washington and Washington's who worked hard enough to deserve the title, Alexander Hamilton included.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Elizabeth nodded her assent, and hugged her little sister wholeheartedly, murmuring into the fluffy hood of her coat, "Don't get it if it's expensive, love. I'm sure you've already spent enough on all the rest of your gifts."

"I think my older sister is definitely worth it," Peggy insisted, returning the embrace to the best of her ability, though it was hindered slightly by the pile of soon-to-be gifts she still carried.

"Have fun at work, and say hi to Alexander from me," Eliza instructed, releasing Peggy from her arms and kissing her cheek before turning away and wandering off to peruse some other aisle, leaving Peggy to return to find the right present for her sister.

Eliza's meandering, directionless journey through the large store brought her unintentionally to the alcohol section in the rear of the building. Though she was somewhat hesitant when it came to drinking, she knew her Father, Philip Schuyler, enjoyed expensive alcohol for when he hosted events with his fellow senators. _A potential gift for Daddy_ , she decided, and began to scour the shelves for something he might find appealing.

The only problem was, she didn't know where to begin.

When she bumped into an unexpected saviour, it was with palpable confusion emanating from her and a deep frown creasing her forehead and knitting her brows together. But suddenly all of her consternation evaporated like mist on a Summer morning when she spotted the woman who, she decided at once, would rescue her from the predicament. After all, the familiar young woman (thankfully clad in more weather-appropriate clothing than she had been on their last encounter) was staring at the shelves with such a look of concentration that Eliza deduced she had to be at the very least more knowledgeable on the subject of alcohol than she was herself. "Maria! Maria Lewis, you _have_ to help me!"

At the sound of her full name, Maria's head whipped around to face the source of the sound, though this time it was not fearful or suspicious, because she recognized that sweet, melodic tone; it was so different from the type of tone she was accustomed to being addressed with that she was convey she'd recognize it anywhere. "Elizabeth," she greeted mildly, "What's wrong?"

Pouring out her predicament to the young woman, the teal-clad girl explained, "I'm in the middle of Christmas shopping, and I have no idea what my Father would like." Blushing as she confessed the true obstacle which rendered her helpless, she bashfully confessed, "I mean, I was thinking that he might appreciate something alcoholic, but I know next to nothing about the most suitable thing."

Maria narrowed her eyes, gladly allowing Elizabeth to distract her from the less cheerful thoughts which had previously been preying on her mind. Considering it carefully, she checked, "Your Father is a senator, right?"

The Schuyler woman's initial instinct was to wonder how Maria came to know that, before she remembered that it was hardly a closely guarded secret; and with a surname like hers, it wasn't hard to connect the man's offspring to him. Nodding, she confirmed, "Yes, he is. And he has a lot of alcohol in his cabinet for when his colleagues visit him, so I assume he'd be happy to receive some more..." Her fragile confidence stalling as Maria's expression remained unchanged, she reverted to her regular coy attitude as she asked, "Do you think that's a stupid idea?"

"No!" Maria exclaimed, eyes wide as she shook her head frantically: as endearing as she found Eliza in her vulnerable state, she didn't want the kind, generous woman to remain so unsure of herself. "I was just thinking, if he already has a lot of booze, he might prefer something else." Eliza cocked her head, intrigued, and Maria couldn't help but chuckle at the undeniably pretty woman's exposed bewilderment as she suggested, "How about getting him a really nice decanter? That way, it's a gift which lasts longer than a single bottle of something, and he can still impress his politician friends by showing how affluent his family is." As an afterthought prompted by the rare comfort she felt at being in the presence of the girl who seemed somehow to send forth an aura of calm with her every breath she took, she added in a low, silky voice, "Perhaps he can even use it as an opportunity to boast about how successful his most beautiful daughter is." _Oh wow, did I really just say that? Nice one, Maria, flirting with the first person to be this kind to you since James is a_ really _great way to make friends._ She regretted it instantly, but remained unaware of just how flattered Eliza was until a tell-tale sign appeared on her face.

 _Did Maria just call me beautiful?_ When the delicate rosy hue of her cheeks darkened into a vibrant crimson, it was no longer solely her embarrassment at her lack of knowledge which was to blame. But determined to remain her usual cheerful self rather than accidentally make the situation unbearably awkward, she beamed, her entire body seeming to light up with an angelic glow as she declared, "Maria Lewis, you are a genius!" She linked arms with the other young woman and began to walk further along the aisle, imploring as she did so, "You have to help me find one."

Reflecting that, if nothing else, her experience with a certain lover of alcohol had equipped her with enough knowledge to earn a place quite literally on the arm of the human embodiment of a golden heart, Maria complied without hesitation, unspeakably relieved that not only had she been given something else to occupy her thoughts, but that fate had smiled upon her and made that distraction someone as wonderful as Elizabeth Schuyler.

* * *

Two hours later, the pair had concluded their impromptu joint shopping trip, and walked into the patisserie where Maria worked, giggling ridiculously as they entered, having been bizarrely united by their shopping adventures, before collapsing into two chairs with matching sighs as their bags dropped to the floor. It was smaller than the tavern, but it sold incredibly intricate French delicacies baked predominantly by America's favourite baking Frenchman, their own Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, and the vintage Parisian decor with accents of pink was appealing enough that the size of the place didn't matter.

"Maria! I'm so glad you've arrived, Hercules et moi have plans!" Lafayette greeted from behind the counter, wiping his hands made white with icing sugar on his apron and proceeding to rip off the pink garment. He tossed it lazily over a hook, gathered his bag, and had bid both women farewell with a sweet kiss to their heads within a matter of seconds, leaving his colleague to pick up where he left off with service.

Smiling apologetically, Maria excused herself, "It looks like I've got to get working immediately. You don't have to hang around." She pushed herself from her seat and took her bags to sit behind the counter with her, calling to the other woman without facing her, "I really had fun with you today. I'd..." _Stop being so nervous, dang it,_ "I'd love to meet up again some time."

When there was no reply, Maria assumed her companion had already vacated the patisserie, with a slight pang of disappointment. But when she turned to pluck her own pink apron from beside where Laf had placed his, she found instead that Eliza had followed her to the counter, and was nodding her assent while nibbling her lip nervously in preparation to ask, "Do you serve drinks here?"

It was so drastically unexpected - _not only is she not running away from me the instant I tell her I don't mind her leaving, but she's also nodding like she wants to see me again and even asking if it's worth staying here a little longer?_ \- but then, perhaps after spending hours with the patient young woman, she should have known better. Reduced to a bashful, blushing juvenile herself by the surprise of it, Maria could only nod, the matching reflection of her new friend. She forced herself to stammer, "We serve coffee and hot chocolate. It's... It's good - okay, it's not as good as the Tavern, but we _do_ serve drinks."

Eliza smiled - she seemed to do little else, and it was thoroughly refreshing. Timid, she confessed, "Hot chocolate sounds lovely. I don't mind if it's not as good, I just don't really want to leave quite yet."

 _Because it's cold outside, nothing more,_ Maria told herself with almost aggressive certainty. But the sparkle of Eliza's eyes made the bisexual woman dare to wish that it was some other reason keeping her there.

Unaware of Maria's train of thought, Eliza returned to the table where she had left her bags and perched on her chair, patiently observing as Maria fixed her hot chocolate and trying her best to ignore the way her chest seemed to flutter with something other than the adrenaline of hurrying around New York City in the height of the Christmas shopping period.

When the young waitress brought her the drink, Eliza did something vastly out of character: summoning every last drop of courage she could dredge up, she locked her black eyes onto those caramel pools of the other girl, and revealed before she took a sip, "It doesn't matter how this tastes in comparison to what is served at the Tavern; all I know is that this place has even more lovely staff."

With that, she took a long gulp of the hot chocolate, thankfully at drinking temperature, purely to stop herself from screaming in a combination of terror and celebration that she had been so uncharacteristically bold with her compliment.

But when she saw Maria's enthralling eyes dart to the floor while her equally beautiful brown skin gradually altered until it matched the vivid rose petals of her lips, she knew it had been worth it.


	7. December 7th

**A/N: You know who's hardly been around? Hercules Mulligan. (Unless he secretly has been around but because he's a spy he's escaped the narrator's attention thus been omitted from the past few chapters, I don't know.) Well we're bringing him back, and we're revisiting our poor sad little Aaron Burr Sir and FINALLY THERE'S A BIT THAT ACTUALLY FOCUSES ON LITTLE JEMMY MADISON! Essentially this chapter is a double portion of Okieriete and that makes me happy!**

* * *

 **December 7**

When Hercules Mulligan woke to discover the keys to his family's tailor shop in a location he didn't recall leaving them, he ought to have been suspicious.

When he strolled into the shop to discover the floor swathed in expanses of white fabric, draws of thread brimming with golden glitter, fairy lights streamed around the perimeter of the ceiling and mannequins donned in Santa hats and tinsel scarves, he understood precisely what had come to pass as clearly as if it had played out before his own eyes.

Without any genuine frustration, he muttered under his breath the name of the only conceivable culprit, and turned around, making his way straight back home to confront the perpetrator.

Lafayette was waiting when he returned to their apartment, sitting expectantly on the couch, his knees brought up to his chin and all of his lanky body save for his head coddled in a blanket. His expression beamed with barely concealed anticipation as he innocently noted, "You're home early! Was there some problem at work?"

For possibly the first time since setting eyes on the Frenchman, Mulligan found his attention was not pulled irresistibly towards the handsome, elegant features of his face, but to the incriminating flecks of glitter in his hair. He threw his arms open in absolute exasperation as he declared, "Okay, fine, you win! Not only have you taken over our apartment with your decorations, but you have worn down my resolve to protect my family's business from your madness too. I hope you're happy, _Gilbert_." His tirade was broken with a pause, during which he tried and failed to resist the urge to chuckle at the man's first name, which was scarcely ever used. He snorted in his attempt to contain his mirth within himself, thoroughly undignified, which elicited a matchingly graceless snigger from Laf. Mulligan made an effort to reclaim his composure and added, "I also hope you're dressed under that blanket."

Until the last sentence, Lafayette had been thoroughly smug, knowing exactly what had agitated his best friend so terribly. Yet how could he possibly refrain from doing everything and anything in his power to force the festive season upon him? It was done with Mulligan's best interests at heart, and he had been very confident in his ability to deflect any possible response - other than that painfully vague addition to his submission. Raising an eyebrow, Lafayette enquired, "Pourquoi?"

Mulligan rolled his eyes, the epitome of juvenile immaturity, with a familiar glimmer of humour manifesting in the curl of his lips. He justified, "If you're gonna make me do the whole Christmas decorations thing, then I'm gonna need your help to do it properly. I mean, you broke into my shop, who _does_ that? So now I've gotta go pick out a tree for the shop, and because you owe me, you've gotta help." His face broke into his usual good-natured grin as he warned, "Before you even _think_ of getting a plastic one, I'll remind you that the Mulligans' tailoring business has been founded on promises of quality and authenticity since 1776, and as such there is _no way_ I am settling for anything less than a real tree."

A mischievous smirk infiltrated the Frenchman's face, and his thinly veiled jubilation was almost audible as he remarked, "I thought you were opposed to anything even _remotely_ Christmassy until the day itself..."

"Hey, that's not true, I usually get swept up with it at least a week before December 25th," he contradicted, yet even he could tell that his argument wasn't particularly convincing - whether it was a week or a day in advance, he still left it comparatively late to indulge in fully enjoying the festive atmosphere when he was given a choice in the matter. Half way between being embarrassed and entertained, he admitted, "I don't know what it is, but you have a way of winning me over, Laf."

With an unexpected squeak of surprise, Lafayette claimed, "That has to be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, ma chere!"

If he saw Hercules blush in a rare display of bashfulness, he made no comment on it. Instead, he enthusiastically grabbed the tailor's gloved hand and half dragged him down the street to the nearest Christmas tree sale (because _of course_ Lafayette had memorized its location despite being perfectly happy with his oversized plastic replica which encroached on at least a quarter of their small living room), guided him through the most practical type and finally helped him to settle on a modest fir tree.

He made a significant effort not to swoon when he watched Hercules sling it singlehandedly over his muscular shoulder. Whether he was successful or not varied depending on whose account was heard.

And as the Frenchman and the Irishman hung a plethora of tiny ornaments from the deep green branches and wrapped a string of glistening lights amongst the dense foliage while Lafayette sang various renditions of Christmas songs and Mulligan discovered he could do little more than laugh wholeheartedly at him, he tentatively began to believe that perhaps giving in to his crush's wish had more advantages than he could have imagined.

It didn't look much like a tailor's shop when they were done. And yet, for the two young men, it was so much _more_ than a business.

* * *

Everyone who knew Aaron Burr intimately enough to be aware of his ability to paint on a smile no matter how torn apart he was inside could clearly see that he was in fact distraught over his bizarre experience with Theodosia Bartow. The only ones who had extracted any information from the infamously cagey man were James Madison and Alexander Hamilton, both of whom he told that his date had gone badly, and it had knocked his confidence.

That wasn't strictly true. It had been an excellent date - the only problem was, the object of his affections was not actually single.

It wasn't like him to allow anyone close enough to him that they would be able to inflict a major wound on his genuinely sensitive heart, but with Theo, he had somehow seemed to connect with her on an entirely different level. It wasn't simply that she was by far the most physically appealing woman he had ever seen - though she was, by all means - but there was something else. No matter how brief a time they had shared, there had been an undeniable connection between them, their highly compatible minds and hearts meeting and joining in something like holy matrimony, regardless of the circumstances which had evidently conspired to deny them both the excitement of pursuing a shared future. And though he did his best to hide it from the world and forget about it himself, he failed miserably in the day a and a half following his discovery of her relationship.

He knew it was somewhat ridiculous to be so upset about a girl he had known for a grand total of four days, but she had gotten under his skin like an infection he never wanted to recover from, and he couldn't help but wish with all of his heart that she would change her mind and confess she shared the feelings of emotional torment which were presently eating away at him, gnawing with incessant insistence at his heart.

And, appropriately for two people so automatically attuned to one another that they felt like they had known each other for years after just three meetings, Theodosia _did_ feel exactly the same. She wasn't blind, she had felt the spark of passion between them, and she couldn't deny her attraction to Aaron. But she was an intelligent woman, and she knew better than to throw away a long term relationship on a whim. She had to be sure about Aaron before she took any steps towards actually being with him.

Aaron's phone buzzed with an incoming message, and suddenly he didn't feel so lost.

 _From: Theodosi-ugh_

 _I know I messed you around, but I really like you. Any chance of a second date? Theo xxxxx_

Burr felt his heart skip a beat, and for the first time since her revelation, the infamously hard to read man displayed something other than his trademark grimace: his jaw dropped, hanging open as if he had forgotten it was even there. All he could think to do was to change her contact information to something less resigned to suffering, because all of the pain she had caused him had somehow been healed by the unexpected request.

Burr didn't quite know how to respond, but he didn't have to. Madison watched with great interest as a second buzz prompted his co-worker's face to break into a grin, this time one of true, honest joy.

 _From: Theodosia the beautiful enigma -_

 _You have every right to be mad at me, but I really want to give this a chance. I know it sounds so stupid, but I don't want to throw this away because I never actually checked if it was worth taking a risk for. Theo xxxxx_

Every rapid touch of his fingers against the keys of his phone seemed to exude a brilliant delight from the man who was usually so reserved about the emotions he displayed. He found that, when it came to Theodosia, he didn't care who knew how besotted he was with her. What he cared about was winning her affection, and proving to her that he was worth taking a leap of faith for. _If she needs to see me again before deciding whether or not to ditch her boyfriend, so be it. I'm willing to wait for it._

When he had sent his message in response, Madison tentatively approached Burr, making sure not to press for too much information as he casually guessed, "Things back on track with Theodosia?"

Burr didn't even notice the drastically uncharacteristic glow of his eyes which on this occasion accompanied his smile. He was unreserved as he admitted, "Not quite _on track_ , but we're going on a second date. She wants to know if it's worth leaving her boyfriend for me, so this is a big chance for me."

Looking at Aaron, it was near impossible to recognize his colleague of two years - this excited young man whose grinning face held no tension whatsoever and who was beginning to tremble with enthusiasm was nothing like the Burr he knew. It was a huge improvement. Placing a hand on his shoulder, James congratulated, "That's huge, Aaron. You're going to be great."

As swiftly as his jubilation had manifested upon his features, it drifted away to be replaced with anxiety. Slowly, he came to acknowledge, "If I mess this up, I lose her for good, don't I?"

Madison shook his head, insisting, "You won't mess it up. I know you won't." Aaron nodded, but where he was usually able to convince people that he held convictions regardless of if that was actually true, this time he fooled no-one. Gently, Madison suggested, "Why don't you go home? Plan your date, make sure there is no way for it to go wrong." Aaron hesitated, clearly uncertain about abandoning James in the Tavern, but the other man quickly assured him, "I can handle things here. You'll be no use anyway if you have to work whilst worrying about Theodosia."

Coming round to the idea, Aaron nodded slowly and removed his navy apron. He walked around the counter and had reached the door, but he froze where he was, turned around, and flung himself into the counter, reaching over the top to grab Madison and squeeze him in a fierce, tightly constricting hug. He murmured a brief, "Thank you," which truly spoke volumes, and retreated again, this time reaching the street and leaving Madison flushed a luminous pink, as awkward as he was stunned by Burr's impromptu display of gratitude.

Chuckling, a certain customer clad in her usual yellow coat and sipping at an espresso remarked with bemusement, "Now _that_ is not like Burr." Smirking, Peggy correctly assumed, "His girl troubles aren't troubling him any more?"

Madison nodded, "Something like that."

Peggy returned to reading the article she had been examining before Burr and Madison's interaction had commanded her attention: The Washingtons had allowed her to take a long look at a file for a recent case, in which a woman was prosecuting her abusive boyfriend. The Washingtons had taken her case even though she did not have sufficient funds to pay for their services out of pity for the poor woman, and Peggy had realized that there was more than one lesson to learn from the case. It was not all about intellect, but also knowing when it is more important to show compassion rather than greed.

That said, the youngest Schuyler sister struggled to learn anything at all when the combination of soft, intimate lighting and her forgetting to bring her glasses made the words illegible. So, after a couple of minutes trying fruitlessly to force her vision to miraculously correct itself, she gathered her things and resigned herself to moving closer to the window, where cool daylight would strike her page and lend a soft, wintry glow to her skin which Madison would decide after some deliberation caused her to look like a snow queen disguised in the garb of common people.

The remaining barista handled the rest of his shift without too much difficulty, even without Burr's assistance, and stayed on top of orders so much so that he had a chance to observe customers now and then without distractions and refine his skills of deduction.

Time and time again his eyes fell inevitably on Peggy. She looked different, more relaxed than she ever was when in the company of the rest of her rowdy group, her downcast eyes catching the light and reflecting it from under her long, dark eyelashes, and her lips forming a pout of concentration as she allowed her work to consume her attention.

That is, until a presence entered into the café which she found impossible to ignore, primarily because he was directly addressing her, albeit with an incorrect name:

"Maria! What the hell, _this_ is where I finally find you?" The man, obviously inebriated judging by his heavy, uneven, zigzagging steps, not to mention the stench of booze which entered the Tavern along with the drunkard himself, reached out for her, clearly a case of mistaken identity.

Politely, she tried to explain herself, "I don't know who you're looking for, but I'm not -"

He cut her off with a grunt, and staggered close enough extend a hand towards her, which she quickly deflected, before warning, "Okay, buddy, I don't know _who_ you think you are, but if you lay another hand on me, you'll regret it." _I didn't study taekwondo for twelve years only to be dragged around by some drunk idiot._

Foolishly stubborn, the man tried again to pull her from her seat. "Maria, baby, come home," he coaxed, his attempts to restrain her growing increasingly forceful as she resisted.

"Look, I don't _want_ to hurt you, but I will," she threatened again, casting a frantic, pleading look towards James Madison as she did so - though she didn't doubt her capability, she would have hated to cause a scene.

That look finally compelled the quiet man to make his way around the counter and head directly for the pestering alcoholic, displaying the strength which many underestimated due to the way his selection of various oversized jumpers always concealed his impressive build as he removed the man's tenacious hand from Peggy, instructing sternly as he did so, "Come on pal, you've got to leave."

With that, he bundled the man out into the street and closed the door firmly in his face, leaning back against it until the drunkard ceased his efforts to push back inside.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Madison turned to Peggy to see that she had adopted an unnaturally ghostly pallor. Evidently, the man had shaken her, and James was keen that she shouldn't be left to brood on negative feelings without someone who understood to listen and support her. So, he quickly made the quickest hot chocolate he had ever managed, setting a personal record, and made his way towards her table, setting the mug down before her. A moment's uncertainty saw him setting himself down too, taking a seat and leaning back into the armchair opposite hers as he revealed sympathetically, "I always find hot chocolate the best cure for stressful situations. Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," Peggy insisted too quickly, instead wrapping her small hands around the mug and taking a sip regardless of the fact that she knew it would scald her tongue. After a second to consider it, she questioned, "I heard you were lactose intolerant. How can you drink hot chocolate?"

"Where did - who - that's a little random, uh... I use coconut milk, or other replacements," James stuttered with a self-conscious shrug, confused over her interest in such an insignificant matter. That was before he reached the conclusion that her shock was making her slightly scatter-brained. "Now come on, it'll only play on your mind if you don't get that guy off your chest, and I don't want either of your sisters hunting me down and accusing me of not taking adequate care of you."

Reluctantly Peggy sighed, full of the awkward realisation that Madison simply would not leave her until she opened up to him. However, thanks to the sick feeling of nausea and foreboding gradually growing in her stomach the more she thought about what had just passed, she began to warm up to the idea - and besides, although she assumed he was joking, the idea of either of her protective sisters being hugely critical of Madison if they decided he had neglected her in an hour of need was not beyond the realms of possibility. Reticent, she mumbled, "What do you think happened with that guy?"

James pondered it, gazing out of the window in the direction he had disappeared in. "Truly, I don't know," he admitted. "I guess he was looking for someone, and maybe you look like her."

"So you don't think he'll come and seek me out, or something weird like that?" She clarified, a hint of anxiety tainting her words. It wasn't like the youngest Schuyler sister to display any trace of self doubt - she always felt safe on her own, as comfortable in the company of her friends as without them, and she could certainly handle herself in the face of aggression and adversity, but something about the way the stranger had grasped her as though there was no question of her disobeying him deeply disturbed her.

Accustomed to sensing the moods and qualms of others, James smiled reassuringly as he shook his head, and tentatively reached across the table to pat her hand comfortingly.

She noted how soft his hands were, and wondered if perhaps hand cream or moisturiser of some kind might be an appropriate gift for the man. But then, upon consideration, she decided he deserved something far more than that to thank him for his services. Smiling with genuine gratitude, she murmured, "Thank you, James. You're very... Sweet. Noble. Chivalrous." She giggled, a weight lifting from her chest as he visibly blushed, but tried valiantly to hide it by subtly burying his face in his scarf - _He wears a scarf indoors? I never noticed_. Upon reflection, there was a _lot_ about James Madison that she had never noticed, and never thought to question, not least the way his eyes seemed to shine with a timid sense of pride at her compliments.

And even if she hadn't paid James much attention previously, she was suddenly filled with a new determination to become much more familiar with her unexpected ally, no matter how prone he was to loiter quietly on the fringes of her social circle. After all, she sometimes loitered there too.

 _Two almost-outsiders of the same group. Yes, I think we'll be firm friends by Christmas._

* * *

 **A/N: and here we have just introduced our key antagonist and the final ship for this story! Strangely enough, I have literally scoured the internet and found nothing placing Madison and Peggy together anywhere. So I guess it's an unshipped pairing, but hopefully you people will end up liking it! I mean, the they're both quietish and shown to be overshadowed by their friend/sisters in the show, soooo they could work!**

 **Anyway, I hope you liked this! See ya tomorrow!**


	8. December 8th

**A/N: Heyyy it's December 8th! And frankly I'm too knackered to say an awful lot but also it just occurred to me that I have yet to explain my characterization of Thomas Jefferson, and seeing as there's some Jeffergelica in this chapter I guess I should:**

 **I absolutely know that Thomas Jefferson was a bad person who did some atrocious things, and the character I write is not heavily influenced by the historical figure. Instead, my basis for him comes primarily from how he's present in the show, and as he develops he's based more on actual Daveed Diggs, simply because that's who I think of when I'm thinking about modern Thomas Jefferson. Please don't think I'm just trying to ignore the fact that he did some terrible things, I'm just trying to adapt him to this improved world.**

 **Anyway, my eyes want to close so imma leave you to it! Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 **December 8**

Only two of the Schuyler trio were at the Library on that grey, chilly day. Had the clouds needed to release their burden, their excessively pale appearance indicated that it was cold enough for snow. But the gentle, cold blanket which always smothered some of the otherwise unabating noise of New York had not yet been laid over every surface.

Even so, as she curled up on an armchair in a private little corner of the local Library where her closest in age sister worked, the lack of snow did not stop Angelica Schuyler from donning a blanket anyway. Or, more accurately, Eliza's cornflower blue snuggie with white polka dots, which her younger sister had forced on to her in lieu of Angelica's own throw after seeing her elder sister growing increasingly frustrated with the impossible task of cocooning herself sufficiently to prevent drafts slipping through the blanket whilst still keeping at least one hand free to continue typing up her latest article. This one was on Christmas shopping, and Angelica was making the most of her sister's presence at the Library to grill her for quotes and ask her for advice on various phrases.

"Okay, I just thought of another potential opening sentence. What do you think sounds better: 'Each and every one of us has experienced the overwhelming chaos of being swept away by a surge of shoppers intent on seeking out a bargain', or something along the lines of 'December 25th, a day for peace and goodwill. But on every day of the two months leading up to it, American high streets are filled with anything but.'" She chewed on her lip and drummed her fingernails against the keyboard as she waited for Eliza to ponder which of the two was better.

Frowning thoughtfully, she mused, "I think I prefer the second one. Not that the first isn't good, but it seems a bit too long-winded. For the start of the article, I think you should draw your readers in with something more direct."

Nodding, Angelica rapidly typed something, murmuring as she did so without looking up from the screen of her laptop, "You're right. Thanks, Betsey." She began to scroll through her document, mumbling the written words under her breath as she did so, and identified an area in need of a quote or statistic. Addressing Eliza again, she asked, "You went Christmas shopping a couple of days ago. How would you describe the crowds as the big day draws ever closer?"

Again, Eliza took her time to think through her reply carefully, speaking aloud as the right words came to her, "There has been a definite increase in Christmas shoppers since the start of December. A week in, and plenty of people are starting to get nervous - you can hear people shouting in the square about how quickly they're running out of time, and how much more they still have to do." She broke off, and as if she had been reading lines for a character she had assumed, she checked, "Is that good enough for you to use?"

Smiling appreciatively, Angelica confirmed, "Yes, that was wonderful. You're so much help with these things."

"I try my best," Eliza replied with a cheeky grin and a dramatic toss of her silky brown hair, eliciting a chuckle of amusement from her elder sibling. She was relieved to see signs of genuine happiness on Angelica's face: She had been working exceptionally hard recently, taking on more shifts at the Church's store to cope with the increase in customers which always accompanied the festive season while still pursuing her budding career in journalism. It was futile to attempt to persuade the infamously stubborn woman to take a break from either of her two demanding jobs, so Eliza did what little she could manage in order to help, which entailed encouraging her sister to do the majority of her writing at the Library so that she had an excuse to monitor her: That way, she could ensure Angelica's needs were not carelessly neglected, and that the older woman was not deprived of laughter and fun during the long hours she spent typing up new articles. Even despite the additional effort, Eliza found she quite enjoyed going out of her way to give her elder sister additional attention during her shifts at the Library.

"I know you do," Angelica acknowledged, smiling fondly at the younger woman and momentarily closing the lid of her laptop to return the undivided attention Eliza gave to her. "I never asked, how _was_ your shopping trip? I saw what Peggy bought."

"She found much more than I did," Eliza reluctantly confessed, "but I _did_ also make a few good purchases. And you'll never guess who helped me choose a present for Daddy!"

 _Someone who excites you_ , Angelica realized, reading the familiar glow of true enthusiasm in her sister's face. She said nothing, however, and allowed the librarian to elaborate on her story.

"Maria Lewis! You know, Laf's friend from the patisserie who came to that film thing last week. She was so helpful, Angie. You know how terrible I am with alcohol, well, I happened to bump into her when I was looking to see if I could choose a drink for him, and she suggested I buy a fancy decanter instead. It just seemed to make so much sense, I don't know why I didn't think of it myself!"

A suspicious grin beginning to blossom upon her lips, Angelica suggested in blatantly false innocence, "Perhaps you were just hoping to find someone like Maria to come to your rescue? I mean, you've been single for a long time, maybe you've just been waiting for your lady in shining lip gloss to come to your assistance all along?"

Eliza gasped aloud, genuinely shocked by the very idea, but she harboured no ill will towards her beloved sister when she shot back with anger that Angelica could easily identify as fake, "If you're going to hurl such accusations at me, I shan't sit with you. Finish your article without me, _I_ am supposed to be working because I am so _very_ busy and important." She stepped away, turning so quickly that her skirt span around her like a miniature tornado, causing Angelica to laugh good-naturedly and roll her eyes, before turning her focus back to her work.

Eliza had only just returned to the front desk, however, when her elder sister returned to the forefront of her mind. She recognized the man standing opposite her at once. Beaming at the familiar man by way of welcome, she greeted, "Mr Jefferson! How can I help you today?"

Returning his own grin, he smoothly replied in his thick, southern accent, "Elizabeth Schuyler, hi. What's up? How you doing? I hope you day's going well. This _weather_ though, am I right? Chilly." He ceased his awkward one-sided small talk when he recognized her confusion, and instead cleared his throat (along with a trace of embarrassment) and launched into explaining his real reason for visiting the library. "You know, I'm not saying you're not a close runner up, but right now I was wondering if you might be able to tell me where to find the _most_ gorgeous woman I've ever seen. That's your sister, by the way. Angelica," he clarified, as if she hadn't already been informed of his restless flirting with a certain one of her sisters every time the pair happened to cross paths. Him actively seeking her out was a brand new development, however, and one the young woman found particularly exciting.

A plot began to hatch in Eliza's mind, motivated by the best intentions and nothing but adoration and concern for her hard working older sister. Flashing another sweet, convincingly innocent grin to Thomas, she helpfully pointed towards Angelica's secluded corner, informing him, "She's just over there, curled up under a heap of blankets and typing away like a woman on the warpath. Perhaps you could help her? She's writing a newspaper article on Christmas shopping." _Or perhaps you can distract her and give her something else to laugh about with your strange small talk so that she doesn't become suspicious about_ me _watching over her all the time._

Though not as perceptive as either his closest friend or most vicious enemy, even Jefferson registered the mischievous glint in Eliza's expression. Winking conspiratorially, he agreed, "I won't tell her you sent me over." Eliza's nod of gratitude confirmed his suspicions that Angelica was not particularly eager to have company, but he approached her anyway, sauntering over with an air of excessive confidence rarely shown inside a library. With a smirk which would ordinarily stir at least a flutter of interest, he made himself known. "Angelica Schuyler, it's been too long. Now I've finally found you."

"It's not really an impressive achievement when I _know_ you just asked my sister," Angelica retorted flatly, not even bothering to glance away from her laptop, maintaining her typing speed regardless of the new distraction.

Unaccustomed to having a girl appear completely unaffected by his attention, he was left slightly dumbfounded when Angelica did just that. His self-assuredness fading a fraction, he slumped down into the chair opposite hers, pulling his knees up to his chin and contenting himself just to watch her.

She tried to ignore him, and succeeded for some time, until she decided that his periodic dejected sighs prompted by the way she displayed complete indifference to him in such a convincing manner were becoming unbearable. She shut the lid of her laptop with a loud clatter and impatiently demanded, "Can I help you? Only, I'm a little busy -"

"Writing an article, I know. Your Lizzie told me." She said nothing, so he tentatively offered, "I wondered if I might help? I know a fair bit about shopping, obviously," he stroked a hand over his ostentatious magenta blazer, admiring his own arguably questionable fashion choices as he continued, "I could be your source for research. Not that you don't research well enough on your own, that much is obvious from the last piece of your work that I read, but -"

"You messed up my sister's nickname. It's Betsey, and it's only for close friends and family to use," she corrected his initial statement while she pondered his second suggestion. Slowly remembering that she should at least be thankful for his willingness to participate in her writing, she carefully rejected him, "It's kind of you to offer, but I work in a shop, so I think I can manage."

Thomas sighed, regretting both that she evidently was not in the mood to tolerate incessant flirting and also that he had no excuse to pester her until she was prepared to return his affections after being flat out turned down. And yet, he was not satisfied to allow her to slip through his fingers when he had only just began to converse with her. Making himself more comfortable, he leaned back into his chair, stretching out a lanky arm to prevent her from opening her laptop and resuming her article. He channelled all of the suave skills of seduction he could muster as he remarked, "You work in a shop? That's so cool, babe, you gotta tell me more."

Angelica rolled her eyes, seeing straight through his transparent ploy to entice her into a more personal line of conversation, but given her current desire to take a brief pause from writing, she humoured him. Smiling despite herself, she replied, "It's a designer department store owned by my boyfriend's family, and I work as a personal shopping assistant, advising people on what to wear." A trace of humour brightened her expression as she archly remarked, "I think _you_ could use a session with me." _Honestly, a bright purple blazer? I would happily tolerate an hour of Jefferson if it meant he never wore that again._

But rather than taking offence at her harmless teasing, he only raised his eyebrows and bit his lip as he drawled, "I'd happily have a _session_ with you any day, Miss Schuyler."

Within her, amusement wrestled with disgust as she tried to decide the correct way to respond to the blatant innuendo. After a moment of internal debate leaving her gawping wordlessly, she finally released an indignant splutter of, "Jefferson! Can you _not_?"

Raising his hands as he feigned being blameless, he insisted, "Relax, I was talking about the clothes!" All semblance of virtue disappearing in an instant, he quickly added, "Now I'm interested in whatever it was that you _thought_ I meant, though."

Angelica shook her head, and set about smoothing her dark curls and sweeping wispy strands of hair from her eyes, completely ignorant to the blush rising onto her cheeks. But she was smiling, a rare sight when she was not in the company of her innermost social circle. And even despite the absence of someone she knew and adored, her face radiated joyful joviality.

Jefferson was convinced he'd never seen her look so beautiful.

Trying once more to distract herself from him, Angelica tried to become engrossed in her work again, finding it marginally easier because, for once, Jefferson was not making a sound. In fact, both halves of the pair found themselves uncharacteristically lost for words, and they were left in a strange but comfortable silence, disturbed only by the tapping of fingers on keys. It was vastly new territory for either of them to be rendered speechless for so long a period of time, however it could not continue indefinitely. Thomas interrupted it in good time, barely managing to begin before being cut off, "Angelica -"

"I'm a little busy here, Jefferson. And anyway, I know what you want, and _you_ know that it could never happen because I have a boyfriend. You'd do well to remember that," she interjected, though it lacked the icy coolness which usually accompanied similar variations of that statement, but rather a reluctant kind of pity.

Rubbing the back of his neck and clinging on to his pride, he started to respond, before a vibration in his pocket prevented him from doing so. He pulled out his phone and answered the call, his enthusiasm from the pursuit of Angelica disappearing almost instantaneously. His brow creased, and he stiffly muttered, "Fine. I'll be there." With that he hung up, and turned to his companion with an apologetic grimace and the explanation, "I've got to go. Some issue at the Louisiana with the decorations needs my attention."

He rolled his eyes, eliciting a sympathetic chuckle from the woman, who generously indulged Jefferson's fantasies by replying, "I suppose I can't steal your attention all day long, much as I'd like to."

Thomas grinned victoriously, declaring in a sultry murmur, "We could make your dreams come true if you wanted to, Angie. If you would only swing by some time..." he winked suggestively.

She shook her head, yet she couldn't conceal the urge to giggle at his facial expression, and she swatted at his arm as she ordered, "Go on, get back to running your business instead of wasting your time here with me!"

Thomas sighed and began to walk away in glum, resigned compliance. But as he considered her words, he paused, glanced over his shoulder, and assured her, "It has _not_ been a waste of time with you. This has been the highlight of my day, if you must know, and anyone who doesn't feel exactly the same way isn't worth your time." With that, he exited the library, leaving the eldest and wittiest Schuyler sister staring after him and somehow wishing despite her better judgment that he had stayed a while longer.

 _I guess I'm more susceptible to flattery than I realized._

"How was Mr Jefferson?" A bubbly voice inquired as a pair of pale arms wrapped around Angelica's shoulders and a head came to rest on her shoulder. Angelica twisted to see Elizabeth's radiant face, and playfully tried to escape her grasp.

"Betsey, get off! And I suppose you think that you were _oh so smart_ in sending Jefferson over to me?"

Eliza obeyed, and walked around to sit in the chair opposite her sister, the very one recently vacated by Jefferson himself. "Don't pretend you weren't enjoying his company, my dear Angelica. I could hear you laughing from the front desk, and I see that blush on your cheeks right now." She shrugged nonchalantly as she added, "I know it's absolutely none of my business, but I think that you like him more than you're letting on, and it's obvious that he's keen on spending time with you. So what's the harm in giving him a chance to prove he's not _quite_ as annoying as Alexander would have you believe?"

Angelica laughed skeptically, raising an eyebrow as she challenged, "Do you honestly believe he just wants to become friends? Or that he's be so eager to hang around with me if he didn't think I was hot?" Eliza had no response, but her silence was not at all reassuring. Angelica stated what she believed her younger sister ought to already know, "He is after a fling, and you know as well as I do that I'm with John. Not that I would go there _anyway_ , because I _don't_ like him like that, regardless of what you might think."

Eliza only offered a knowing smile, and mildly placated her determined sister, "If you're so sure."

"I am," Angelica insisted. And she _was_ , to an extent. But even _she_ had to acknowledge, no matter how much it pained her to do so, that she had seen the tiniest indication of something different in Thomas Jefferson, some previously unseen quality lurking beyond his machismo arrogance - hidden very well, but there nonetheless.

 _Okay, he charmed me today. But I'm overworked and exhausted, it's only natural I'd be vulnerable,_ she confessed internally. She repeated further statements in her mind, trying desperately to convince herself that Eliza was wrong.

 _It's fine if I think he's attractive._

 _I'm allowed to be interested in him without having some ulterior motive._

 _So what if he makes my stomach flutter with nerves?_

 _So what if I like him just a little bit more than I should?_


	9. December 9th

**A/N: it's December the 9th, and you wonderful readers have miraculously allowed this story to exceed 1000 views! Which I find pretty exciting soooooo to celebrate (and just because this is the general plan) I've got a chapter focusing solely on my otp! Yayyyy! Hope you enjoy this, thanks so much for reading and doing all the other lovely things you do!**

* * *

 **December 9**

With just over two weeks left until Christmas day, two thoughts struck John Laurens at the exact same time. Separately, he would have seen nothing overly ominous in his realizations. Together, however, they formed a horrifying combination:

Firstly, Laurens recalled that he despised going shopping when unbearably enormous crowds surged this way and that, turning high streets into manic pits of sweaty torture.

Secondly, he realized that he had done a grand total of none of his Christmas shopping.

He had been lounging peacefully on his sofa in his own comfortable apartment, (an apartment he would never have been able to afford without his father's assistance, as frankly he found his career as a budding artist to be less than lucrative) with his closest friend slumped beside him and teetering somewhere between wakefulness and slumbering, having leaned over onto John and allowed his mouth to fall slightly open within minutes of arriving, but not quite permitting his tired brown eyes to close for more than a second. But as John jerked beneath him, panic suddenly seeping out of him, Alexander jolted too, sitting bolt upright and turning to his esteemed companion and demanding, "John, what's wrong?"

At once, the lanky, freckled young man felt a dash of guilt, both for interrupting Alex when he had been so obviously close to getting some of the sleep he clearly needed following a series of particularly busy days at the office, and for making the man fear for someone he cared for so much. Eager to placate him despite his own internal dismay, Laurens swiftly summoned a tense smile and confessed, "It's nothing, really, just me being stupid."

"You're _not_ stupid," Alexander fiercely insisted, as if he was personally insulted by the very notion of Laurens' self-depreciating comfort. "Tell me what's wrong." _I refuse to let anyone I care about suffer in silence_.

"I swear, it really isn't all that bad," Laurens admitted, feeling all the more foolish when his friend asked for an elaboration. But Alexander's insistent gaze did not relent, and with a bashful smile he explained, "I just realized I haven't bought Christmas gifts for anyone, and that basically sentences me to spending so many awful hours trawling through disgustingly crowded shops and wrestling pensioners to find anything decent. Or shopping online, but knowing my luck, everything would get lost in the post."

Hamilton looked away from him, staring into the middle distance and seeing an idea bloom before his eyes. Returning his gaze to his dearest friend, he pointed out, "You're an artist." John shrugged half-heartedly, reminding Alex of the young man's current occupation, something that paid the bills but didn't exactly impress as much as John would have hoped when he first dropped out of college to pursue an artistic career. "I mean yes, right now you're contractually obliged to illustrate textbooks, but you _are_ an artist, and a talented one at that. People would pay good money for your work."

Starting to grumble and failing to see how this related to his current predicament, Laurens complained, "If people would pay good money for it, why aren't they?" He looked to Alexander for the answers, and found only an intelligent smirk which compelled him to dig deeper. "You mean to say my art is _valuable_... That it constitutes a Christmas present!" He realized, suddenly grinning as he understood Hamilton's idea.

Alexander only nodded, drowsiness beginning to reassert it's grip on him, but he stifled a yawn as he confirmed, "Yes. You should do it, my dear Laurens. Everyone you know loves your art as much as I do."

Filled with almost overwhelming motivation, John slid off of the couch, leaving Alexander there alone as he explained, "I'm going to get started straight away, I have two weeks and I can't waste another minute." He disappeared into his bedroom, and returned a few minutes later, carrying armfulls of pencils, canvases, sketchbooks, an assortment of paintbrushes and an endless array of colours in tubes of paint.

But by that time, his guest had finally fallen asleep.

* * *

Alexander woke hours later after his best sleep all week long, with no concept of how much time had passed and only a vague recollection of where he was. But he did not feel concerned in the slightest, because he could hear the soothing sound of a paintbrush sweeping elegantly across a canvas, smell the familiar scent of strong acrylic, and feel an almost excessively fluffy blanket draped over him.

In other words, everything around him reminded him of John.

Sure enough, when he blinked open his eyes and the world around him began to take shape, he recognized the tall, slender, beautiful silhouette sitting by the window to optimize the light availability, and he couldn't help but smile as his vision cleared completely, allowing him to make out that frown of concentration and the pouted lips which Laurens always displayed when he was working.

Unwilling to disturb his host, and yet unable to go another moment without seeing what majestic masterpiece was flowing from the paintbrush of the inconceivably talented young artist, Alexander did something drastically uncharacteristic: he locked his mouth firmly shut, and silently slipped off the sofa, his feet not making a sound on the carpeted floors as he crept over, blanket still draped like a cape around his chilly shoulders and clutched to his chest in his balled fists. Refraining from announcing his presence or his recently awoken state, Hamilton instead settled down a few feet behind Laurens, dropping to the floor and folding himself into a cross legged ball as he observed.

Currently, Laurens was working on a gorgeous scene which Alexander easily identified as Paris, a dainty, vintage café far more authentic than any imitation which might be found in New York set in the centre of a narrow side road in early evening, illuminated by a single streetlamp while the Eiffel tower peered over the top of the building from in the distance. It was nearly finished, by the looks of it, with the painter adding the tiniest details of light with a thin brush dipped in white. On the floor beside Laurens' chair sat another drying masterpiece, this time depicting a couple kissing under a sprig of mistletoe, their faces mostly obscured by a long scarf which was wrapped around them both.

It was one of those precious rare occasions when Hamilton felt no need to busy himself with some more pressing issue, or to disturb the peace with words. So it was Laurens who finally spoke, setting down his brush with a sigh of satisfaction, and asked, "What do you think?"

"Beautiful," Alexander answered without hesitation, even though the more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that word did not do anywhere near enough to convey the sheer mastery of his craft which John had displayed in his work.

"Can you guess who they're for?" Laurens invited, turning around on his stool to face Alexander, still sitting on the floor and gazing at him with an expression which bordered on awe.

Considering it with narrowed eyes, he decided, "That one is for Laf. And I suppose the lovers might be intended for... I don't know, Eliza?" John nodded, and Alex felt compelled to ask, "Who's next? In fact, _what_ will the next one be of?"

John leaned back, exhaling heavily as he admitted, "I have no idea." Regarding Alexander with keen interest, he jokingly suggested the thought which had circulated within his mind for the past half hour, "I reckon you're attractive and charming enough that pretty much every single person in our group of friends would be happy to receive a painting of _you_."

Alexander chuckled, a faint blush marring his tan skin as he absorbed the compliment from the very man he himself considered to be a living work of art. He realized that Laurens was likely teasing him, but even so he couldn't resist indulging his ego by pretending it had been a genuine offer, hence the way he temptingly proposed, "If you really think so, I'd gladly sit for you. Right now, if you were up for it."

" _Really_?" John replied too quickly, his voice a squeak of surprised excitement. He hadn't intended to paint anything else that day, but with Alexander right there, sitting innocently on the floor of his apartment with sleep smeared in his ever-intense gaze and his hair messily strewn about his shoulders where it had escaped from his high ponytail during his long nap and giving him an open invitation to stare at him to his heart's content, he could scarcely believe his luck. Clearing his throat with a small cough, his voice returned to its usual pace and pitch as he accepted, "If you would really allow me, I'd love to paint you." _I'm just not entirely sure I'd be able to part with the end product - but then, I can cross that bridge when I get to it._

He was startled somewhat by the realisation that Laurens had been absolutely serious about his initial offer, but more than that, he was immensely flattered. Never one to back down, particularly where the charming, handsome, witty young man was concerned, he reassembled his suave bravado and insisted, "Of course, my dear Laurens. _Anything_ for you."

John grinned, and Alex thought he glimpsed a dash of red to match his own coy blush shining from within the young man's mass of adorable freckles, but Laurens was running a hand through his curls and bringing them forward to conceal any tell-tale indicator of being flustered. "Would you go back to the sofa, then? I'll paint you there."

Alexander complied, strangely obedient for Laurens' benefit, keen to aid his dearest friend in any way he could. _Show him, by actions rather than words, that you love him,_ Hamilton told himself as he returned to the sofa and found a comfortable position, laying down amongst a pile of plump cushions with an arm raised over his head, his curls falling over his shoulders and his baggy grey sweater shifting to reveal some of his neck, allowing a welcome draft to cool him - he suddenly felt inexplicably warm, and he suspected that Laurens' heated golden eyes upon him had some hand in the matter.

Laurens settled his easel up before him, a touch anxious himself judging by the way his paintbrushes clattered together when his shaking hands picked up the jar in which they stood. Composing himself, he rhetorically addressed himself as much as Alexander as he murmured, "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Okay." Laurens hesitated for a moment, staring hard at Alex, unable to identify the reason for either his own inexplicable nerves or that of his subject. And taking a deep breath to calm his pounding heart, he raised his pencil. It hovered in the air for a moment, as the artist took a few seconds to consider what part of his crush to begin sketching first, studiously examining him and looking for one specific features that jumped out at him above all others.

Noting the brief delay, Hamilton smirked suggestively, with lust in his voice and humour glistening endearingly in his eyes as he coaxed, "Draw me like one of your Softshell Turtles, Jack."

Laurens had to laugh at that, the jovial sound bubbling up from deep within him and carrying away his tension with it. He decided that those laughing eyes were the place to start, and finally set his pencil to the canvas to embark on his sketch. Within a few minutes he was setting his brush to the palette, swirling together red and yellow and a hint of blue with a generous squeeze of white and a dash of black, and then he began to paint Alexander Hamilton.

Neither man spoke, Alex too concerned about losing the pose and Laurens unwilling to divide his focus when he was concentrating on what had the potential to be possibly the most gorgeous image he had ever created. But even with a deafening absence of conversation, the hours flew by, and slowly but surely a painted version of Hamilton began to take shape, his wide shoulders and messy hair and parted lips and intense eyes complete with the bags framing the underside emerging from Laurens' skilled brushwork.

Eventually, it was completed, and John set down his brush with a satisfied sigh which immediately morphed into a long yawn. Alexander, on the other hand, felt flooded with energy, bouncing to his feet as soon as recognized that John had finished his painting, and making his way around the easel to see the portrait.

When he set his eyes upon it, however, the breath he was inhaling froze half way into his lungs, leaving him stunned by what he saw.

It was a day of thoroughly rare occurrences in the life of Alexander: he had slept for hours, then patiently and quietly waited for someone else to finish their work, and now he was rendered genuinely speechless.

Suddenly unnerved by the silence, John mumbled with strange timidity, "Do you like it?"

Alexander could only nod. Urging his ordinarily talented tongue into motion, he forced himself to ask, "You really see me as..." He trailed off, not quite able to reach for an appropriate word to describe the way John had depicted him. It was beyond comparison.

"Yes," he confirmed, without hesitation, adding mentally, _Alexander, no painting could ever come close to conveying how unbelievable you are to me._

But even though he didn't say so aloud, the sure sincerity in Laurens' golden eyes told Alexander all he needed to know.

In an attempt to lighten the heavy, heated atmosphere and ease the ceaseless drumming of his heart as it tried to break through his ribs and present itself openly to the man before him, Alexander donned a mischievous smirk, slung his arm around Laurens and knelt down to be level with him. Trying to the best of his ability to limit his wonder to platonic levels, he suggested, "I know exactly who you should give this to."

"Who?" John asked, taken in by the act as he was by every word which came out of Alexander's mouth.

His expression breaking into a wide, playful grin, Alex replied, "Burr."

At once, Laurens' own facial expression shifted to mirror the amusement in Hamilton's, and he laughed, nodding wordlessly and slipping his own arm around Alexander's waist. He dropped his head to lean against the shorter man's shoulder, and agreed, "I think you're right." He was too tired from his efforts to say much else, and simply allowed his eyes to droop closed. Three paintings' worth of work was catching up to him, and suddenly seemed to weigh heavy as lead on his long limbs.

Noticing, Alexander gently shifted beneath him, and lifted John from his stool despite the taller man's sudden groans of protest. But Alexander could not be stopped, and he settled Laurens down on the sofa, pulling the blanket to cover his best friend as John must have done earlier to him. Strangely enough, being enveloped by something which smelt of Alexander calmed the other man, and he did not complain when Alex set about clearing away his art equipment and setting the portrait safely to dry.

By the time he perched on the arm of the sofa, a soft snore was coming from John, and he had pulled the blanket to conceal most of his face. So as to make sure he didn't overheat, Alex gently pulled the blanket down a few inches, brushing the unruly curls away from Laurens' brow as he did so.

Just before he left the exhausted man to rest, Alexander couldn't resist leaning down to press a gentle kiss to John's freckled forehead. And as he did so, he whispered, "Goodnight, my dear Laurens. And thank you."

* * *

 **A/N: Fun fact - Laurens' nickname actually _was_ Jack historically, so the small Titanic reference was absolutely appropriate. And as for the turtles, Laurens did some sketches of North American Softshell Turtles for a biology textbook when he was sixteen and supposedly had a whale of a time doing it!**

 **Also, I have literally had this very same idea of creating art to give away as Christmas presents, simply because I have no idea what anyone I know wants! But it'll be finee! I hope...**


	10. December 10th

**A/N: Sorry this is a little later than usual, my sister came home last night and we stayed up kinda late, hence me getting this up lateish too! It's finally the weekend, guys! And there's only 15 days until Christmas! So, for today's festive instalment, we have a dash of Peggison/Maggy/Jeggy or whatever you want to call it, and the valiant return to Burrdosia! Aaron's been planning the perfect intimate, romantic date to win Theo's heart...**

* * *

 **December 10**

Madison was just closing the Tavern for the day when Thomas came swanning in, his long purple trench coat billowing behind him majestically in the piercing winter wind. He slapped his hands down on the counter, holding a crumpled white envelope within them, and turned to his closest friend.

With an apologetic shrug, Madison informed him, "If you're here for a drink, I'm afraid I can't help you. I just turned off all the machines, and it's against company policy to serve after closing time anyway."

"What? No, I don't want a drink," Jefferson explained. He slid the envelope towards his friend, and revealed as he did so, "I got two tickets to go ice skating in central park." He grimaced as he admitted, "I tried to persuade Angelica to come with me, but as you can see, she wasn't interested." He sighed, uncharacteristically deflated as he continued, "I figured if _I_ couldn't use them, _you_ might want to. So what about it, Jemmy? You want to find someone to go skating with?" It was almost painful to watch Jefferson try and fail to dredge up a drip of enthusiasm, and Madison had to exert utmost control to keep from visibly cringing.

"What about you? You could still go on your own, or come with me," James pointed out. He knew from experience it was futile to attempt to amend Thomas' downtrodden mood when he was in such a sulky state, but as a good friend, he tried even so.

He shook his head, curls bouncing, though even his buoyant hair seemed to be somewhat more subdued than usual. "Nah. I'm not in the mood. Use them, though, yeah?" He urged, and turned away, leaving the café and permitting his friend to continue to lock up.

By the time he was free to enter the street, Jefferson had long since disappeared, leaving James with two tickets to go ice skating and no companion to go with.

Heart heavy with sympathy for his best friend, Madison decided that he, too, was not actually keen on the idea of wobbling his way around a perilously slippery ice rink, an experience which, knowing his medical misfortune, would probably result in a broken bone or two. Thus he began to make his way home, slowly and carefully navigating the streets laden with ice.

Yet despite his best efforts, and the sturdy boots he always wore from the first day of Autumn to the last of spring, Madison soon found himself struggling, his feet sliding from under him without any warning. His hands searched urgently for purchase on the wall beside him, but his thick mittens made it impossible to find a hold with which to steady himself. Mind and limbs alike floundering, the man prepared to succumb to the thing he feared, expecting to hear an almighty crack as he toppled to the ground regardless of his desperate attempt to remain upright.

However, that did not happen; mercy came in the unexpected form of Peggy Schuyler, on her way home from a tiring day at the Washingtons' office when she saw the man flailing, skidding on that one patch of ice like a cartoon character, compelling her to laugh at and assist the man simultaneously. She hurried over to him just before he hit the floor, and with a strength her petite form ought not to have contained, she hauled him to his feet and pushed him towards a less perilous patch.

She waited for the man to dust himself down and turn around to face his heroine before she actually recognized him - her fatigue had meant that she hadn't identified the familiar way the scarf was enveloping the man's neck and chin and a hat was pulled down to cover his ears - and she exclaimed as she saw his eyes and nose peering out from the knitwear he was bundled up in, "James! I didn't even realize it was you!"

Madison was intensely thankful for the fact that most of his blushing face was concealed as he murmured, "Yeah. I'm not great with cold weather, but thanks for helping me out."

"No problem," Peggy replied with a cheerful, refreshing grin. She began walking again in the same direction as James, so seeing no reason to walk in silence, she asked him, "What are you up to tonight?"

Madison smiled, his cold humiliation thawed somewhat by Peggy's unfailing openness and interest. He had no qualms about honesty despite the fact that he knew it would probably sound boring as he admitted, "I'm heading home to spend a cosy evening with my pet parrot."

"You have a parrot? I love birds!" Peggy enthused, her expression alive with almost childlike excitement. She span around in the icy street, flinging her arms out as she confessed, "Sometimes I wish I could fly like they do."

With an indulgent chuckle at her playful demeanour, Madison invited, "Hey, you could come and meet him some day if you want." _Not that you would, because how many smart, pretty girls visit their barista's home to see his pet parrot? Still, it's worth offering._

For all his certainty of rejection, he was taken back by her reply, "I'd really like that!" Recognizing her companion's surprise, she bashfully told him, "I love animals. I don't even have a pet, yet I frequent my local pet store just to see all the creatures there." She seemed to forget all traces of unnecessary shame as she continued, "I can't help it, they're too cute to stay away from!"

"I get it," James assured her, nodding in genuine understanding. An idea came to him, and after a moment of silence in which he weighed up the pro's and con's of following his impulsive brainwave, he chose to muster all of his courage and suggest, "Hey, I know you must be tired after a day of work, and I don't mind if you say no, but your sister just rejected my best friend, so now I have two tickets to go ice skating tonight and if you _did_ want to come with me... Well, I guess that would be cool."

Peggy raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by the offer, and rightfully so considering the fact that she had only really had one proper conversation with James prior to this one. _From what I know, he's a nice guy, and ice skating is always fun anyway._ After a few seconds, she agreed, "Sure, that would be lovely." A teasing smirk played on her lips as she remarked, " _Somebody_ has to pick you up when you fall over, and on this occasion it might as well be me!"

* * *

Twenty minutes and one bus ride later saw the pair stumbling onto the crowded ice rink, both equally clumsy at first, but Peggy soon grew accustomed to the familiar sensation of allowing her body to sway and drive her around the ice like sails dictating the direction of a ship. Madison, on the other hand, did not take easily to ice, having only skated once before as a child, an occasion upon which he sprained his wrist and vowed never to try it again.

He desperately wished he had upheld his personal promise, especially when he knew his companion was flying around the rink with easy grace and putting him to shame, meanwhile _he_ clung to the edges and shuffled around the perimeter of the glazed surface.

"James, it's alright," Peggy had approached as silently as nightfall, and now she was by his side, holding one of his hands and matching his tentative pace as she encouraged, "Don't worry, it takes a while to get used to it. Just relax - it's easier to fall if you're stiff, so try to be fluid in your movements." She skated a little way away from him and twirled, exemplifying what she meant for him to strive for.

Pulling his eyes from his ice skates to meet Peggy's with an expression of insecure anxiety, he tried to excuse himself, "I'm sorry, I'm awful, but that doesn't mean _you_ should stop having fun. I can sit out and wait for you, I honestly don't mind -"

"James, it's fine," Peggy soothed, returning to his side and taking both of his hands this time before pulling him away from the railing. He could do nothing but place every ounce of his trust in the young woman, something she knew and relished as she told him with a reassuring grin, "Just mirror my feet."

To his credit, Madison tried. He also came disastrously close to falling flat the instant one foot left the ice. But again, Peggy was there supporting him, hoisting him to his feet as she promised, "Don't worry, let's just take it slow, okay? We're going to crack this!"

"I hope you mean the skating rather than the ice."

Had it been anyone else, Madison would have already left the ice rink (if he had even made it there in the first place) and yet, when it was the perpetual optimist urging him to keep trying, he couldn't bear to refuse lest he should see her sunny expression disappear. And so, despite being reluctant to lean on the smaller woman, he allowed her to take some of his weight and guide him slowly around the rink, and ever so tentatively, he began to actually enjoy himself.

Madison cracked a joke about how ridiculous they must look, to which Peggy laughed in hearty agreement. And suddenly his clinging embarrassment didn't seem so heavy, the ominous ice became so much easier to navigate when they were holding on to one another and staggering to and fro, and the cold didn't seem to nip so ferociously at their cheeks. But that didn't stop their faces from flushing a matching shade of red...

* * *

In his apartment across town, high enough from the ground that the all-encompassing silence was interrupted only by gentle, lilting, romantic music coming from his Father's cassette player, Aaron Burr was not nearly so jovial. He was prepared as much as it was possible for him to be, he knew that. But it still didn't feel like enough, not for the guest he was expecting.

The balcony was lit by dozens of tealights and candles, and a string of white christmas lights trailed over the railing and around the door. The floor was littered with blankets and pillows, and the soft music seemed to exist only for whoever inhabited the balcony. The food for the picnic was scattered on different plates across the balcony, and Champagne waited beside two glasses, with no need to keep it on ice when the weather was already doing a brilliant job of freezing everything it touched. Anxiously, Burr began to fret, hoping that Theodosia would be warm enough and certain that if she failed to be, their romantic atmosphere of their evening would be ruined.

His internal reverie was soon interrupted by the buzz of the door. He instantly granted entry, knowing it could only be Theo requesting him, and inhaled a deep breath which filled his chest and lifted his upper body, giving off the illusion of confidence; no matter his true terror, he was ready to swallow any doubts and paint on his winning smile, hopefully so that he could procure the heart of the woman he had learned to care for so deeply in such a short span of time.

Within minutes she had made her way up the stairs to knock on his door. Opening it, he was swept away by two things: first and foremost, her astounding beauty was sweet bliss after what felt like ten decades without seeing the woman who, in reality, he had not yet known for ten days. Secondly came the overwhelming relief that she was completely enveloped in an enormous coat. He didn't even have to try to smile, because his face instantly split into a wide grin the second he laid eyes on her. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, his heart fluttering like a hummingbird's wing, murmuring as he did so, "Theodosia... I'm so glad you came."

"Of course I did. I like you," Theo replied with a sincere smile, stepping into the apartment and beginning to undo the buttons of her coat, before Aaron interrupted her with a hand on her shoulder.

At her confused expression, he swiftly explained, "I'd keep it on if I were you. We're not going to be staying indoors." Taking her elbow, he guided her through his apartment and straight out onto the balcony.

She registered the romantic lighting, delicate picnic and champagne in a single look, one which caused her breath to catch in her throat. She turned to Aaron, wide eyed and uncharacteristically speechless, and regarding him with surprise: She knew he had found her attractive, but she hadn't considered that he might go to such lengths to show her how eager he was to genuinely try to have something with her. Rather than words, she only placed a hand on his cheek, tenderly conveying how touched she was and scanning him for any hint of a joke in his gaze. She found none, just as expected.

Aaron was serious about Theodosia, more so than he had been about anything in his short life. Somehow, she had strutted into his world, bringing her kooky coffee cravings with her, and uncovered the repressed emotions locked within his heart, much like _he_ had recovered the pumpkin spice syrup on that chilly December day. And yes, despite the cliche, it seemed to him that when she was touching him and gazing at him with something like affection in her eyes, life tasted just as sweet.

Chuckling lightly, he invited, "Please, make yourself comfortable." Still slightly taken aback, Theodosia sat herself cross legged on the floor, and Aaron walked behind her, explaining as he wrapped one of several blankets over her shoulders, "In other circumstances, I would pull out your chair, but this is the closest thing to that I can think of when there are no chairs to speak of."

Theo giggled, and snuggled into the blanket, relishing the physical and emotional warmth it ignited. Her eyes reflected hundreds of flecks of light, providing stars in a city which ordinarily displayed none, and she appreciatively replied, "How creative of you. A true modern gentleman, even in this day and age."

Burr took a seat opposite her, basking in the praise, and offered her a plate of orange slices, which exuded a thick aroma of cinnamon. "I would have gotten strawberries, but they're tasteless at this time of year. I find these go well with champagne, however," he began, setting the plate down between them and reaching for the bottle. He poured it into the two tall, elegant, matching champagne flutes, and passed her a glass. They knocked them together, before each taking a sip.

Theo glanced away from him to gaze over the city, enjoying the view his apartment boasted amongst many other surprises the second date had offered. More thinking aloud than addressing him, she mused, "I believe I am currently with the most charming man I have ever known."

Thankfully, the low light hid Aaron's astonishment, allowing him to confidently respond, "I presume you mean me?"

"Yes," Theodosia turned back to face him, a renewed smile upon her lips as she saw the hope glowing in his eyes and twisting his own mouth into a smile more sincere than he ever allowed to appear on his features. "A sweet, kind, smart, handsome man."

Aaron's smile faltered, not with sorrow, but due to being completely and utterly overwhelmed by Theodosia. Some sort of spiritual connection between them drew him irresistibly to her, making him eager to win her heart and desperate to be the very manifestation of anything she could ever wish for. So to receive such high praise came perilously close to leaving him struggling for air. His mind was entirely devoid of words to say to the incomparable woman, but his expression evidently conveyed anything he could have managed to say in response and more.

Theodosia felt something shift within her, and it leant her the last ounce of certainty she needed to make her decision. Leaning closer to him, she whispered, "I came here because I was unsure. Now I think I know what I want."

For once, Burr required nothing more than that tentative, implicit suggestion before taking action. Nothing but the deep, endless night saw what followed on that cold December night...

* * *

 **A/N: Does this count as a cliff hanger? Maybe. Maybe not.**

 **Fun fact: James Madison did own a pet Parrot. It was simply called Macaw, which seems a very basic name for a parrot to me, but hey ho! Hope you enjoyed this!**


	11. December 11th

**A/N: It's December 11th! Fun fact: my birthday is in a month! Another fun fact: It's time for a little more Mullette! So let's open the metaphorical calendar door!  
**

* * *

 **December 11**

Hercules woke upon that Sunday morning bleary-eyed after a long night of sewing a garment which he couldn't stand to leave unfinished. It was hardly a rare occurrence for him to find that he was unable to set down an item of clothing he was working on, because he knew that with every exquisite piece he finished, an abundance of awe-filled gratitude would be awarded to him, and he was not ashamed to admit that he relished the high praise his precise work almost always earned him. Though his broad shoulders and tall stature could be said to give the Irishman an intimidating appearance, in reality his heart was as soft and tender as a roasted marshmallow, and the tiniest of smiles held the power to motivate the mountainous man to do incredible things.

As a result, it was something of a regular occurrence that he should wake up slumped over his desk, needle and thread still perched between his finger and thumb, and temporarily oblivious to where he was.

Such was the case on that misty Sunday morning. He wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings in those first moments after forcing his eyes open, which is why he jumped practically out of his skin when the doorbell rang. Even so, he braved leaving the desk in his room and crossing the threshold into the rest of his shared apartment, being assaulted by a garish barrage of Christmas decorations as he did so, (Which, dare he admit it, had significantly grown on him since he decided to give in and allow Lafayette's decorations to encroach upon every area of his life) including paper chains zigzagging across the hallway low enough that he had to stoop to avoid them.

He opened the door to find a struggling mailman - or at least, the bottom half of one. The top half was primarily hidden by an enormous box, leaving only a pair of eyes peering over the top.

Surprised, Mulligan commented with an amused chuckle, "You must _really_ feel lucky today, right buddy? Not only do you have to deliver post on a Sunday, but you're lumbered with that!" The sarcasm was evident in his tone, but it was highly sympathetic rather than spiteful. "Let me help you out," he offered, reaching for the parcel, eager to ease the mailman's burden.

"Oh, just a minute, Sir, I just need to check," the postman apologetically replied, still holding the parcel. With an almost desperate edge to his voice, ( _I'd be that desperate if I had to run through procedures before being allowed to offload that, too,_ Hercules reflected) he enquired, "Is this the home of," he hesitated, shifting the colossal package and reading the label, "Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette?"

Hercules beamed with sudden comprehension, realizing that the oversized parcel and the unusual day of delivery made perfect sense. Shouting into the apartment, he called, "Laf! Delivery for you!" Turning back to the mailman, he confirmed, "Yup, he lives here. Thanks man - I guess that must be pretty heavy, all things considered." _Lafayette definitely comes from a long line of Frenchman and women who go infinitely overboard when it comes to Christmas. Then again, there's not a thing about Laf that I'd change, this included._ With that, he took the parcel from the smaller man, finding it was not so heavy to him as he had feared despite the way the mailman had blanched from the effort of carrying it. Or perhaps he was just provided with an additional burst of energy from seeing that relief on the postman's face.

As an afterthought, Hercules shifted the box into one arm and dug into his jean pocket with the other, delving deep to find a Christmas tip for him; there was no saying if they'd receive more post closer to Christmas itself, and he would have hated to forget to tip altogether - he had never been wealthy, but now he was financially secure, he had no qualms about sharing his fortune. He produced a few notes, and passed them to the mailman, warmly wishing as he did so, "Happy Holidays, man!"

The postman returned his cheerful expression and gratefully pocketed the cash, responding wholeheartedly, "Thank you, Sir. I hope you have a great Christmas." With that, the man shuffled away, more of a spring in his step than when he had approached the building.

Hercules turned into the hallway and made his way into the sitting room, placing the box in the middle of the floor - or what little floor space remained beyond the perimeter of their oversized Christmas tree. Again, he called, "Laf!"

He knew the Frenchman was a heavy sleeper, however he also knew that he loved to make the most of his days off. Which is why, moments later, the sound of stumbling, sleepy footsteps grew increasingly louder as the lanky man made his way towards his flatmate, mumbling almost incoherently, "Oui, oui, mon ami, I'm here, lower your booming voice. Qu'est la probleme?"

Smirking in amusement, Mulligan gestured to the parcel on the floor and explained, "It's no _problem_. I'm guessing this is from your parents?" He knew that, though his flatmate's parents had both been incredibly busy throughout his childhood with very demanding jobs, they had also reaped the financial rewards, and despite their emotional distance from their son, they had always been prone to buying him bundles of gifts for any occasion that warranted it, even _after_ he had moved to the United States.

Lafayette's eyes widened as he noticed the large box. He dropped to his knees before it, immediately reaching for the tag and reading the elegant cursive, before looking back up at Hercules with a sudden grin. "Oui. I believe it is time to open some gifts!"

"But... It's not Christmas day yet, Laf," Mulligan pointed out. He himself had a high regard for complying with the moral obligations to wait until the very day before opening any presents. Then again, if Lafayette was so insistent, who was he to argue and wipe that entrancing grin from his features? Already willing to give in and observe the proceedings, he, too, sat down on the floor.

The Frenchman simply placed both hands on either side of Hercules' face, brought them almost eye to eye, and solemnly promised, "My parents did not send that parcel with the expectation that it would remain unopened for more than a few minutes. They would be ashamed of me if I did anything but dive in." He shuffled aside, an unspoken invitation for the larger man to sit even closer, and Hercules complied, crawling around the package and coming to sit beside Laf as the Frenchman began to attack the box with animalistic determination.

It was barely thirty seconds before Lafayette was taking the lid off of the parcel to reveal a selection of smaller gifts of varying shapes and sizes, all wrapped in cream paper decorated with small Eiffel Towers and festive holly leaves, tied with a scarlet ribbon. All of them but one, which was instead wrapped in red paper and tied with a white bow. Mulligan settled himself comfortably, his elbows resting on his knees and his head propped up by his hands, a peaceful smile illuminating his features with radiant pleasure as he indulged in watching his best friend's blooming delight.

It was a bizarre way to find joy, but given his feelings for the Frenchman it was hardly surprising that he adored seeing him happy. And when tearing recklessly through carefully wrapped parcels to discover the generous gifts bestowed on him by his parents, Lafayette was _definitely_ happy, his eyes aglow with the combined effect of his excitement and the multi coloured Christmas lights glistening within the branches of the tree and reflected off of every other glistening decoration placed throughout the sitting room; his smile, the very one which provoked a spike in Mulligan's pulse, was perpetually plastered upon his lips, and from time to time he glanced up to see Hercules' reaction to whatever it was that he had just opened, with such adorable innocence that the tailor almost expected to spontaneously combust then and there from his inability to process the gorgeous sight of the man before him, with his hair still scraped into a messy bun which had slipped slightly to the left overnight, and marginally long pyjamas which covered his hands and pooled around his ankles.

But it was when Laf reached for the final gift that he became more unbearably sweet than Herc had ever seen before:

Curious about the different red paper used, Lafayette took a moment to read the label, his smile fading momentarily into stunned astonishment which swiftly returned to euphoric ecstasy. Without a word of explanation, he passed it to his roommate, a lithe, knowing smirk appearing on his elegant features as he watched the mountainous man's mounting confusion. It was all explained within a moment, however: Hercules read the familiar slanted cursive on the label, and it fell into place:

 _To Hercules Mulligan,_

 _Thank you for looking after our son. Here is a small token of our immeasurable gratitude for all you have done for little Gilly._

 _All our love,_

 _Michel et Marie du Motier_

 _XoXo_

Reassured that Laf hadn't made some error in handing him the parcel, Mulligan began to open it, pulling gently at the corners with all the meticulous precision that one learns to have when working with fabric every day. It was very different to Lafayette's style, but the Frenchman watched with uncommonly patient anticipation in exactly the way his dearest friend had done when it was he who was unwrapping his parents' Christmas gifts.

With a flourish, Hercules pulled away the unripped paper to reveal a blazer, obviously designer, and in the very shade of navy blue which he was known to favour. Confused as to how strangers would know precisely the gift he would adore, he looked to his friend for an explanation of sorts.

It was rare that Gilbert should appear bashful, but he did on that morning, blushing and muttering under his breath as he confessed, "I suppose I speak a lot about you to mes parents." Hercules accused him of nothing, but he was defensive nonetheless as he insisted, "Well, that is no crime! Of course I tell them about you - you are my best friend and my flatmate, you took me in when I first arrived here and the lease for my flat fell through, and you have been wonderful to me ever since!" _So much so that my fragile French heart can't help but adore you._

"Calm down, I never said I minded," Mulligan placated him, reaching a hand out to sit on his friend's knee in an effort to reassure him, before recognizing that placing his hand in such a way could be interpreted as something more than platonic and snatching it away again, anxious to do anything which might give away his crush. Clearing his throat, he suggested, "I think I'll try this on, if you don't object."

Lafayette only nodded, watching Hercules leave and stewing in his own thoughts while he awaited his return. He considered the gift. Hercules was right to be confused, it was everything he adored in a single package. And yes, Lafayette would admit that Hercules' name left his lips more times than he could count, but then he had struggled to properly grasp counting in English, so then that didn't say much.

Forcing himself to genuinely think about it, he recalled the last phone call he made to his parents - _Hercules won't stop complaining that he hits his head on the tinsel I streamed across the ceiling_ seemed a familiar phrase now he thought of it - and thought of the last text he sent, _Soz JLaur, busy with Herc. We both have a day off soooo... ;)._ That second recollection in particular sparked a sudden wave of regret, _Mon Dieu, did I really use a winky face to express how I feel about spending the day with Hercules?_ Panicking as the truth set in, Lafayette came to a realization which was obvious to all but him: that he spoke about Hercules Mulligan almost as much as he thought about him, which consequently meant that everyone he knew, including his parents an ocean away, could tell precisely how infatuated he was with the young tailor.

His crisis was interrupted by Hercules, returning to the room fully dressed in a white shirt and tight cream trousers which perfectly complimented the rich blue of the new blazer. Hercules had even taken a moment to drag a comb through his luxuriously thick hair rather than simply covering it with a beanie or a bandana as he was often prone to do, and the sight of the often rugged man transformed caused the Frenchman's jaw to drop.

Neither Lafayette nor Mulligan was particularly prone to being hesitant, in fact their love life (or lack thereof) was the one exception to that behavioural pattern. But the combination of the festive season and the gratitude of receiving gifts and reassurance of affection from his parents but most predominantly the way Hercules' large, strong arms and broad shoulders filled that blazer provoked a shift in the lanky man. Forgetting reservations, Lafayette simply stood and remarked, "You are magnifique, mon chere. Je t'adore."

Hercules knew enough French to decipher that phrase, however before he could even react, Lafayette's long legs had crossed the distance between them in a single stride and now he was bringing his lips to Hercules', screwing his eyes tightly shut and capturing any attempt to reply in his own mouth before his lingering doubts could kick in.

And though he was taken entirely by surprise, Mulligan found that he could identify no reason why he should not kiss his crush of too many years back, with all the Irish fire he could muster.

And so, he did.

* * *

 **A/N: 11 days in and we've got our first (I think) proper, official kiss!**


	12. December 12th

**A/N: Hey readers! We're almost half way through this advent calendar now, and I'm so pleased you seem to be liking it! It really gives me a boost to see your lovely comments and follows and favourites!**

 **Now, there's really nothing more to say, apart from let's open door number 12!**

* * *

 **December 12**

With Christmas shoppers desperately perusing any store they came across in search of a perfect gift, every store was excessively busy during the entirety of December, and Church's department store was no exception. As a result this meant that the personal shopping staff usually confined exclusively to the changing rooms and nearby areas had their duties extended to the whole shop. In fact, as client after client requested her help in selecting a more energy-efficient hairdryer or a different size of shoe, it was an enormous relief to Angelica Schuyler when a colleague hurried up to her and informed her that she had been specifically requested to aid a client in choosing a suit.

Overcome with such immense relief to be returning to familiar territory, she didn't even pause to consider what type of customer might ask for her in particular until she swept into one of the large changing-booths-come-consultation-rooms to find a certain someone waiting for her in a garish neon pink leather jacket and brilliant white jeans. Temporarily rendered blind by the outrageous colour scheme, she could do nothing but groan mournfully as Thomas greeted her, "Well, if it isn't the Angel herself, Miss Angelica Schuyler; I knew you'd come. Pleased to see me?"

" _No_ ," she almost spat in disgust, accusation ringing in her words as she complained, "What are you doing here? In case you hadn't noticed, the store is very busy right now, and I'm _supposed_ to be working."

Shrugging with arrogant self-assurance, Jefferson replied, "I'm not _just_ here to spend an hour with a hot girl. If I was, I could tolerate your colleague." He winked, hoping she might display a degree of jealousy in some way rather than just rolling her eyes. She didn't. With a sigh, he continued, "I'm also here because I require your help - you said so yourself." He cocked an eyebrow, challenging her to swallow her words from a few days previously.

She met him with scepticism, retorting with a smug chuckle, "If you show up in that ensemble, I'm not sure there's any hope for you."

"But it's your job to _try_ and help me see the light," Jefferson reminded her with a grin that could only be described as victorious. "And might I say, you're _already_ doing a brilliant job with that just by being so radiant." Angelica couldn't help but giggle at that one, lending Jefferson an additional burst of confidence. He continued, "So, I'm yours to dress - or _undress_ \- as you please. I need something formal. This is your one chance to put an end to my own glorious fashion choices."

 _I could just give him to some other poor soul,_ Angelica realised. She pondered that option, weighing up the consequences, and decided that it was worth spending time with Thomas if it provided a reprieve from helping in other departments. Warning him sternly, "I _will_ do it, out of mercy for all the rest of the world, not for you," she turned and left, returning to the main store and beginning her search for a more subdued but no less elegant outfit for Thomas.

She could practically hear his triumphant grin as he called after her, "Keep telling yourself that, babe!"

She smiled in spite of herself, reluctantly admitting that she found his cockiness bizarrely endearing. That was a fact that Thomas himself would not learn, however, as she was gone before he could see the pretty curve of her lips which he himself had elicited.

Taking advantage of the fact that the walls of the small consultation room were covered in mirrors, Jefferson shrugged off his vibrant pink number and began to pose in front of the mirror, checking his teeth, practicing his smile, adjusting his voluminous hair, confirming that which he already knew - _if Angie rejects me, it's definitely_ not _because I'm not hot enough_.

He was still at it when she returned, she could glimpse him through the gap at the edge of the curtain as he shamelessly preened himself. She couldn't conceal a small chuckle of amusement, but if Thomas heard he gave no indication. Instead, he continued to strut about in the consultation room, continuing his routine for a few moments before he began to peel up the bottom of his baggy beige sweater to reveal his toned abs.

It was at that point that she felt compelled to interrupt, sweeping in and breezily declaring, "I'd save taking off any more clothes - as ridiculous as they might be - for when you're actually _changing_. And speaking of changing, I believe I've sourced some more _appropriate_ clothes for you." She deposited a large pile in his arms and gestured towards the smaller private changing booth at the rear of the room.

He nodded appreciatively and allowed a small, sensual smirk to tease at his lips as he murmured, "Thank you, Schuyler. I'm sure you're good at what you do." With that he turned and made his way towards the booth, only pausing as an afterthought to drop his pile of clothes, fully remove his sweater and allow it to fall casually to the floor. He tossed a flirtatious wink over his shoulder towards the now blushing Angelica, reclaimed the pile of clothes and entered the smaller changing area.

A few minutes' time saw Thomas strutting out into the consultation room dressed in one of the suits Angelica had chosen, a classic black number. The personal shopper nodded silently, her suspicions confirmed. Jefferson, meanwhile, was somewhat hesitant to endorse her first choice, musing, "Do you not think it's pretty traditional? I mean, a black suit - isn't that the sort of thing _everyone_ wears?"

Angelica nodded confidently, assuring him without the faintest suggestion of doubt, "Yes, and for good reason. I promise you, it's _impossible_ to go wrong with a smart, well-fitting black suit." Almost forgetting that he was not exactly an ordinary client, she stepped closer to him, stroking the collar to ensure it sat well before remembering that his ridiculous lust for her might render setting so much as a finger on him a fatal decision.

She snatched her hands away, smiling through her internal tension. Jefferson casually remarked, "I take it you think I look good, then?"

"Digging for compliments, are we?" Angelica teased him with a genuine look of amusement, growing bolder and daring to run a hand over his chest, ( _just t_ _o check the fit_ , she told herself) declaring as she did so, "I hardly think your ego needs inflating any further, Thomas."

Jefferson shrugged offhandedly, and insisted, "There's nothing wrong with confidence, right, Angel? You should know that from experience. In fact, I personally find it endearing." He nibbled at the edge of his bottom lip as his dark eyes met hers. She made no reply, and he didn't feel compelled to press her for one, so he retreated again to try the next suit she had selected for him.

When he returned, he was dressed in a dark suit which appeared purple wherever the light touched the fabric. He also wore a frown of confusion, and as soon as he stepped into the larger room he confronted Angelica, "I thought you despised me wearing anything other than monochrome? Or have I suddenly converted you?"

She narrowed her eyes and looked him up and down momentarily. After a few seconds, she smiled in satisfaction, and admitted, "I have nothing against a dash of colour. I am only opposed to the ostentatious way in which _you_ so often wear them, and this is a far more subdued, classy way of working a splash of brightness into your wardrobe."

Thomas looked as though he was considering her reasoning, and ultimately decided that it was justified. Another look into the mirror, and he seemed to recall a forgotten detail, "Purple is my favourite colour."

"I know."

Surprised, Jefferson turned his full attention to the young woman, now with a playful smirk dancing on her glossy lips, trying to read her - _is she being friendly, or perhaps even flirtatious? Or is she just masking her internal disgust behind a thin veil of civility?_ He couldn't be certain, and she had grown accustomed to hiding her true emotions well enough that it would be a mystery which continued to haunt him.

Interrupting the strange silence which had settled between them, Angelica reminded him, "There's a third suit in there, you know."

Obeying her implicit command, Jefferson returned to the changing room, this time too dazed to offer some sort of seductive gesture on his way.

By the time he had changed into the third and final suit, he had recovered sufficiently to reclaim his usual bravado. Presenting himself to Angelica, he insisted, "Come on. You have to admit, I look pretty good in this one."

Angelica had to indulge him, forced to admit even to herself that he did indeed look good, even by his standards: the suit was mostly grey with a simple white checked pattern running through, but the sleeves were a bold yet classy pattern of blue and purple flowers which added a hint of elegance to the ensemble. Truthfully, she liked what she saw. And so, she nodded, smiling as she teasingly confirmed, "Of course you do - _I_ picked that out for you, didn't I?" Her raised eyebrow contradicted the slight heat she sensed rising to her cheeks, however Thomas was courteous enough not to call out her blatant attraction to him in that moment, choosing instead to run a hand through his hair once more and turn back to the mirrors lining the walls.

He made eye contact with his assistant as he studied the mirror, her eyes reflected in the glass, and he returned to face her. Slowly, he closed the distance between them, and reached to tuck a strand of her own hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek as he did so. Her taunting smile fell from her lips to be replace with a rare expression of utter captivation as he murmured with uncharacteristic sincerity, "Thank you, Angelica."

Unsure of herself for the first time in many years, Angelica couldn't figure out the correct way to respond. She didn't even know what to think, particularly because the most prominent emotion within her was a thrill of excitement which began in her chest and seemed to tingle through to the tips of her fingers.

As a result of their matching uncertainty, they lingered like that in silence, until a few seconds of quiet was interrupted by the curtain being pushed aside and a familiar voice announcing, "I was told I'd find Thomas here, I -" startled as he actually took in the scene he walked in to, Madison cleared his throat and lowered his voice to an embarrassed mumble, "- Sorry, I figured I'd better find you, Sally said there's a problem at the Louisiana and she can't get hold of you. I didn't realise I'd be interrupting something."

Mouth hanging open in surprise at being intruded on by his best friend, Thomas slowly retracted his hand, muttering something unintelligible, which left Angelica to flash Madison a reassuring smile and contradict him, "Don't worry, you aren't." Switching her focus back to her client, she ordered him, "I think you'd better change back into your own clothes while I sort any outfits you wish to purchase, then you and James can tend to your business."

Thomas nodded, and informed her, "I'd like to buy everything you've shown me."

Thomas retreated to the changing room, pulled his wallet from his white jeans which lay crumpled on the floor, and tossed it to James before closing the door, leaving an uncomfortable Madison and an absolute mortified Angelica both desperately trying to pretend that they were fine. The client pushed the articles of clothing under the door, from where Angelica picked them up and began to scan and pack them.

As she did so, Madison took the opportunity to remark the first conversation starter he could think of to the eldest of the Schuyler sisters, "Peggy's deceptively strong." He selected a card from Thomas' wallet and pushed it into the machine.

"She's trained in too many forms of martial arts for me to mention, which I presume is why," Angelica responded, smiling as she thought of her littlest sibling. Another thought struck her as she watched Madison carefully press the four digit code into the keypad - _he's hardly the type to gossip, and even if he was, I don't see why that kind of thing would capture his interest._ Curious, she pressed, "How did you find that out, anyway?"

Madison's cheeks darkened as he admitted, "She helped me ice skate. And by help, I mean she practically dragged me around the rink. I'm heavier than you'd think."

Grinning widely and tearing her attention away from scanning the suits, she looked at Madison, wide eyes gleaming with excited understanding as she exclaimed, " _You're_ the mystery ice man!" She breathed a sigh of palpable relief as she told him, "She's often surprisingly cagey about who she spends her time with, and she's so independent and trusting that sometimes she will happily wander off with anyone at all." A look of genuine consternation crossed her face, darkening her expression momentarily. She appeared about to continue to share her concerns, before she remembered that she didn't actually know James Madison particularly well. So instead, she smiled with gratitude and concluded, "I'm glad it was someone like you this time."

 _This time? As in, it's not always so plain and simple?_ He was tempted to press for more information, but when Thomas returned to the room, it was clear he had no time to spare for any sort of interrogation.

"Is that done?" Thomas checked, approaching the pair and taking back his card and wallet as both James and Angelica nodded in confirmation. He swiped his bags from the counter and turned to Madison as he suggested, "Shall we?" His best friend began to walk away at his word, giving the taller man a fraction more space to lean across the counter and murmur to Angelica, "Thank you for you help. Until next time, Schuyler." He grinned at her as he walked away, only tearing his eyes away from her when she begrudgingly rolled her eyes with a reluctant grin. The instant his back was turned to her, however, Madison saw a scowl of frustration swarm his friend's expression, and there was nothing light hearted about the way Jefferson muttered, "This had better be an actual problem."

With a calm sigh, Madison gently criticized, "If you would prefer your business to suffer a major issue over having your pursuit of a woman who has made it clear that she is not emotionally available to you interrupted, then I'm afraid you need to amend your priorities."

"You don't _understand_ , Jemmy!" Thomas insisted, running an agitated hand through his hair as he whined, "She's so right for me. Smart, you know, fun, gorgeous -"

"Unattainable. And we both know you love the chase just as much if not more than you enjoy reaping the rewards," James sternly reminded him. "Something tells me she wouldn't take kindly to being used as a pawn in the sort of games you usually play," Madison wisely warned him.

But bizarrely enough, Thomas actually heeded his words, turning to his friend with solemn eyes as he adamantly informed his companion, "Trust me, I'm not stupid enough to play games with this one."

His genuine reply honestly surprised Madison, and he thoughtfully remarked, "I've never known you to be as serious about a girl as you are about her, I'll give you that..." With a hint of wistfulness seeping into his words, he pondered, "Maybe that's just a Schuyler kind of thing."

Jefferson snorted, amused by the idea as he challenged, "What, you think her little sisters are anywhere near as interesting as Angelica?" However, his sense of humour dissipated the instant Madison's telling expression betrayed him, and Thomas recalled, "Oh, you mentioned little Peggy a while ago, right?"

James nodded, anxious as he confessed, "She seems sweet. And her personality is very open, she's kind to everyone." A trace of concern struck him as he remembered Angelica's words, and he fretted, "I suppose sometimes she's just _too_ open - Angelica reckons she doesn't take safety into consideration when heading off with new people." The more the cautious man considered it, the more he began to worry about his sort-of friend. And though he knew Thomas was not the most sensitive of people, he was also a loyal friend who Madison knew he could confide in. Lowering his naturally hushed voice even further, he recalled, "The other day at the café, some guy approached her. There was something about him, I just can't shake the feeling..." He trailed off, still not quite sure of how to pinpoint his worries.

Predictably sceptical, Thomas only commented, "I'm sure she can take care of herself, no matter how trusting she is. And besides, this guy didn't actually _do_ anything to her, right?" Madison shook his head. Quickly dismissing his friend's legitimate concerns, Thomas only shrugged and finished, "There you go. Now anyway, we'd better get to the Louisiana before some irreversible error occurs."

* * *

Across town, warm in their cosy apartment and the many layers of blankets cloaking them both as well as holding them together, Lafayette and Hercules lounged on the couch watching television, The larger man running his fingers lazily through the Frenchman's hair as they both relished the strange but pleasant newness of domestic bliss.

It was not unusual for the flirtatious pair to curl up together, however being officially in a relationship added a new aspect to their close bond. Both were entirely in agreement that being able to kiss one another whenever they pleased was a definite improvement to their usual cuddling sessions.

"Ma chere," the muffled request for acknowledgement came lazily from roughly where Lafayette's mouth was situated, however the fact that he had blankets pulled up to his eyes following the inevitable drop in temperature when the sun dropped below the horizon made it difficult to pinpoint the precise point of origin of the words.

"Hmm?" Mulligan responded, stretching slightly so that his non-verbal reply came across as more of a contented groan.

"Do you think we should tell the others?"

The tailor pondered the idea. As of yet, statistically none of their friends or relatives were aware of their new relationship, primarily because neither man had cause or motivation to leave the apartment all day. And yet, no matter how much he relished the private secrecy of being in a relationship which he and his boyfriend alone were aware of, the louder, more vocal side of Hercules longed to shout his jubilation from the rooftops. Besides, he knew there would be no repercussions from any of their liberal friends, which is precisely why he agreed, "Sure, if that would make you happy." He smiled blissfully as he heard Lafayette's contented sigh of agreement. The Frenchman shuffled under the blankets and withdrew his mobile, holding it outside of the warmth of the nest they had built, and began to type in a message to what Hercules instantly recognized as the group chat. "We should do it in person, though," he quickly added, determined that he should not lose the full glory of his first opportunity to brag about being in a relationship with his best-friend-turned-boyfriend.

Lafayette nodded, and pecked Hercules' lips sweetly in agreement, before removing the message and beginning to type a new one:

 _From: The French One™ -_

 _Meet at 1 tomorrow at the Tavern - got some news for you alllll ;))))))))_


	13. December 13th

**A/N: Yooooooooooo two really great things happened to me on the 12th! First, my friend gave my cats a kitty-friendly advent calendar, so even _they_ can get in on this festive fun! Then, my parents took my big sister and I to see Aladdin on the west end as an early Christmas present! I'm reallllly tired but it is so worth it because it was glorious! Here's hoping that the 13th will be an equally lovely day!**

* * *

 **December 13**

As per Lafayette's invitation, noon of the following day saw every member of the newly extended friendship group gathering in the Tavern, trying to cram themselves onto the two sofas for the first time since a few new members had gotten close enough to the rest of the group to warrant an invite:

Jefferson's longstanding friendship with Lafayette, as well as the new motivation of seeing the woman who presently held his attention, had convinced him to actually take a place on the couch as opposed to avoiding the group's gatherings at all costs. Presently, he was situated where Eliza would usually sit - squeezed in beside Angelica (though even the Frenchman came to regret Jefferson's presence when it quickly became apparent that Thomas was intent on lounging with his head on Angelica's lap, much to her resigned chagrin, with his lanky legs stretching over the arm and obstructing the way of anyone who wished to pass by).

The group also included the new addition of Maria, having been urged to attend by Eliza when she had dropped into the patisserie earlier that day and now sitting comfortably on the arm of the armchair her closest friend had dragged up to the table to sit in herself.

In short, the perpetually bustling group was made even more manic, yet judging by the smiles, some more hesitant than others, present with every group member, that was not too much of an issue.

Given the overcrowded situation of the sofas and the pre-existing close bond between Laf and Herc, the fact that the more slender of the pair was seated on the heavy set tailor's lap barely caused a single person to so much as blink. However, as the bubbly chatter which was to be expected at the start of any gathering of the group faded away and all eyes fell to the one who had called them together, the anticipation lurking in the subdued silence grew to such levels that even the serving staff could sense it, and both Burr and Madison felt compelled to wander closer to the group so that they might overhear whatever stunning revelation was waiting on the tip of the Frenchman's tongue.

The pair exchanged a meaningful look, before Lafayette began, "Mes amis, a few days ago -"

"- Laf and I started dating," Hercules finished, exhaling as he did so with the relief of finally having the secret off his chest; they may only have been dating for a few short days, yet Mulligan had always been particularly skilled at keeping secrets, and had not confided in anyone about his feelings for Lafayette which were more than just platonic.

A blanket of surprise evidently smothered the entirety of the attentive audience for a few seconds, silencing them. And then, the noise resumed again, at much higher volume and peppered with squeals of excitement. Peggy was the first to catapult herself from her seat and onto the couple opposite, with a scream of delight regardless of the groans of complaint at having the grown woman join their sofa. Alexander and John just leaned over, with Laurens stretching over the smaller man just to be sure he could hold on to at least half of the new couple. Marginally more reserved, Angelica grinned and squeezed both men on the knees, a silent expression of her affection for them and her approval of their new relationship, while Thomas stopped leaning on her to instead reach forward to high five Lafayette.

Even Burr, as impartial as he always claimed to be, could find plenty of reasons to smile on that occasion. He clasped his hands together and declared, "I think this calls for some sort of celebration, right?"

Lafayette nodded enthusiastically, peering out from under Peggy's unruly curls but wisely keeping his mouth closed so as to avoid the unpleasant experience of having the young girl's hair in his mouth. That left Hercules to respond on their behalf, "Yup, we definitely need to celebrate. Anyone got any ideas?"

"I do!" Angelica exclaimed, suddenly struck with what she decided immediately was a brilliant idea, "Our annual Christmas Party can double up as a party in your honour! Daddy's taking Mom on a romantic break to Switzerland, so we'll have the place to ourselves, and it'll be far more intimate than just going to some nightclub."

"Nothing wrong with nightclubs," Jefferson quipped, staring at the star of his fantasies with a feigned reproachful expression and folding his arms across his chest.

Angelica indulged in a genuine laugh, and leaned playfully onto Thomas as she playfully insisted, "Come on, that wasn't aimed at you, Mr I-own-a-swanky-nightclub." More than one person was surprised to see the flirtatious familiarity with which the typically cool woman responded to Jefferson's remark, yet even Alexander (prompted heavily by Aaron's warning look which almost seemed to threaten to spike his coffee with arsenic if he dared to interrupt the strange but sweet scene by opening his big mouth) was wise enough not to disturb them and embarrass them into a retraction of affection.

"I'm just saying," Thomas muttered, oblivious to the piercing, suspicious stares of the younger Schuyler sisters and the incredulous gaze of the four men who had an unabashed collective adoration for all of the Schuyler siblings as a whole, "If you didn't want to make it an exclusive thing, you could have had your get-together at the Louisiana. I'd give you all a discount, seeing as it's Laf's new relationship you're celebrating." Supposedly this offer included Alexander, yet Jefferson didn't neglect to glare at him purely to remind him that he was the very last person to be welcome in the club under any other circumstances.

But Angelica just scoffed, and pulled away from him as she raised an eyebrow to inform him, "There is no way that is happening. It's going to be a party for _all_ of us, and realistically _you_ won't be able to relax in your own workplace."

Jefferson frowned, confused, and clarified, "Am _I_ coming to this party, then?"

Angelica laughed again and nudged him in the ribs as she sighed with exasperation, "Of course you are! And James and Aaron too, it wouldn't be complete without a little bit of republicanism to balance out our rowdiness."

Thomas smirked and bit his bottom lip as he winked at her, allowing his southern lilt to fully infiltrate his words as be forgot his few reservations with the bolder, more flirtatious promise, "I can _balance you out_ any time you like, Angel."

That was the final straw. Instantly, the remainder of the watching group collapsed into simultaneous bouts of laughter, shattering the bizarre spell which had kept Thomas and Angelica so focused on one another. With her own laugh, Angelica smacked him gently on the forearm and reminded him smartly, "I have a boyfriend, Jefferson." For good measure she shuffled along the sofa, and then as if nothing had happened, she pulled out her mobile, studied her calendar, and suggested, "Does the nineteenth work for everyone?"

There was a general murmur of assent, though it was not as easy for all of them to pretend they had not all bore witness to undeniable sparks of chemistry flying between the pair.

Eternally the one to diffuse awkward situations with his calm temperance, Aaron resumed his easy smile and declared, "That's all well and good, but how about something for right now? I guess no one noticed our poster, but seeing as Christmas seems to be a time for love, the Tavern is currently doing a two for one on couple's coffees. Though I suppose for you two, I could make an exception and just give you them both for free."

Before either the patissiere or the tailor could voice their thanks, a whine of complaint rose from Alexander. He had been quiet for too long, and he did not hold back as he prepared to dive into a full-blown argument, commencing with the phrase, "That is a terrible injustice to those of us who are not in relationships. If love doesn't discriminate, then how can you possibly discriminate against those who have not found love? I've always considered you a friend, but if you deny the majority of your beloved circle of friends a free coffee simply because we are not all in relationships -"

"Then thank goodness it isn't an issue which Alexander and I are exempt from," John interrupted, smothering Alexander's mouth with his had and raising his eyebrows to silently convey his plan, adding as he did so, "Right, babe?"

As swiftly as irritation had claimed him, it was now victory which fixed its grasp on Alexander as he understood. Grabbing John's hand and lacing their fingers together, he played along, turning to Aaron as he smugly declared, "That's right. I almost forgot - John and I are together now, which means you owe us at least one free drink." It was a shameless lie, of course, but that didn't stop either man from playing their part in their joint deception convincingly, suddenly curling into one another as Alex traced lines between the freckles visible on John's forearms and Laurens began to play with his alleged lover's hair. After all, it was an eventuality which they had both privately dreamed of.

Even so, it was not quite good enough to fool Aaron. He rolled his eyes and remarked, "I _know_ that's not true. If it was, there's no way you'd forget about it," he added with his own smug grin. "I know you'd be singing it from the rooftops if the pair of you _actually_ got together."

Neither reckless young man was particularly easily flustered, but that quip provoked a slight blush to appear on them both. They exchanged an anxious glance, and their hands parted, just as embarrassed as Angelica had been when she caught herself returning Thomas' flirtatious behaviour. It fell to John, seeing as Alexander was evidently too humiliated to function, to grunt, "Whatever, Burr. Just give us a free drink."

Aaron raised an eyebrow and stared down the younger man with a dubious smirk on his lips. His expression gave no indication of what he was doing, but before he passed the group the receipt for their purchase, he scribbled something on the scrap of paper.

Upon closer examination, as well as a decaffeinated triple caramel and pecan latte with cream belonging to Laf and a pot of English breakfast tea belonging to Hercules, a heated cookie dough milkshake and a double shot espresso had also been omitted from the bill.

Burr's smirk became teasing, playful, even, as he watched realization dawn on Laurens' face. It was not destined to last, however, as Jefferson was quick to complain, "Okay, that's just not fair. If they're together, so are Angie and I." He leaned into her, only for her to nudge him away this time and roll her eyes.

Chuckling quietly, Madison shook his head and contradicted, "Sorry, pal, but that's never going to happen." Thomas' responding scowl only made James laughed more, and he wisely pointed out, "I thought you didn't have time to stay here for long anyway? So stop pestering the poor girl and get on with finishing your drink."

Thomas continued to glare at his closest friend, holding perfectly unnerving eye contact as he picked up his cup and downed the entire mug in a single gulp in spite of the fact that it still held enough heat to sear his frozen lips: he didn't care for the pain, because he drank out of pure spite. He stood, declared, "I feel attacked," and left the shop without a backwards glance.

As soon as the door slammed behind him, the group collapsed into a fit of giggles at the abundance of melodrama the man held within him. Angelica was the first to recover herself - not because she wasn't amused, but because she felt she shouldn't be - and cooly remarked, "I hope he doesn't behave so ridiculously at the party."

Continuing to giggle indulgently from where she remained perched atop Hercules and Lafayette, Peggy teased, "I don't think he's capable of _not_ being ridiculous when you're there. He's smitten."

"And he shouldn't be!" Angelica retorted. "He _knows_ I have a boyfriend."

Eliza only shook her head, to disapprove of the way that her sister was blatantly trying to disregard the obvious chemistry between them rather than to disagree with the statement. Glancing up to the girl perched on the arm of her chair, she decided, "I think I will have to spend the whole party with you if my older sister insists on denying the obvious and my younger one continues to spend her time taunting her about it."

Maria smiled slightly, and agreed with an altogether noncommittal shrug, "That suits me, though I warn you, I don't really _do_ Christmas, so I can't promise I won't dampen your spirits." As she felt curious eyes burning into her as her ambiguity and lack of love for the festive season piqued the group's interest, she forced a laugh and glanced into her lap, twisting her hands together as she willed the awkwardness she had brought to the group to pass quickly.

Her fidgeting was quick and effectively stopped just seconds later, when Eliza's hand found hers. The woman who seemed to exude peace soothed her friend with the cool touch against her warm hands, and she smiled sweetly as she insisted, "I'm sure you could never dampen my spirits. We're going to have a great time, you'll see." Already, an idea was beginning to form in her head - an idea which require her to root around her bedroom to find a few crucial ingredients for her plan, ideally before her shift began. Hence the fact that she turned to her friends and informed them, "I've just remembered something I have to do." Before she left, she pulled the two newly announced lovers into a firm embrace and kissed them both on the cheek, before exiting the building with a cheerful wave.

The loss of two people seemed to signal to the rest of the group that it was time for them to disperse: Madison returned to wiping over tables, while Angelica made her excuses to leave just after her friends to return to the shop before her break officially ended in order to ease the crippling burden of work on her colleagues. Alexander decided that he had too significant an amount of work left to do for him to linger there any longer, Burr made his way to the counter, and Maria remembered that she had volunteered to cover Lafayette's shift so that he could spend more time with his new boyfriend.

Which left only Hercules, Lafayette, Peggy and John. Though nothing could have persuaded the lovers to separate, both of their remaining companions took seats on the newly vacated couch to give them all some more space - something which proved quickly to be a fatal move for John Laurens.

Sitting opposite the pair left him fully exposed to their matching analytical stares. He could feel the blush which had barely left his face returning with a vengeance before Lafayette even opened his mouth. When he did, to ask, "John, ma petite tortue, what was that?" Laurens had to struggle not to wince at how visibly mortified he knew he must look.

Mumbling under his breath, he poorly attempted to feign innocence as he responded, "What do you mean?"

Hercules grinned widely and raised his eyebrows as he incredulously quoted his friend, " _Right, babe?_ You called Alexander _babe_ and pretend to be dating him!" He concluded incredulously, clearly not believing that John couldn't see the point he was making.

Laurens refused to reply, however Peggy was not so lost for words, as she remarked in a far more credible version of false nonchalance, "You know, whatever it is you feel about him, he feels the same. At work, he doesn't shut up about you."

John met her gaze with surprise written all over his face. Still he seemed unable to find the words to either confirm or deny his obvious affection for the man, though internally he was screaming with delight. Externally, he merely muttered, "Free drinks are free drinks, I just didn't want to throw away Alex's double shot and my milkshake." As reinforce his point, as well as to excuse himself from further interrogation, John picked up the drink and took a very long sip.

Entertained by his friend's obfuscation, Hercules only laughed and shrugged, "Whatever, man. You like him, he likes you, it's _gonna_ happen sooner or later."

"Oui, with un petit peu d'aide, within the very near future," Lafayette added, with a mischievous wink which promised the conversation was definitely _not_ consigned to be a one-time discussion.

The trio were mercifully prevented from further taunting the helpless young artist when they overheard Madison scolding Burr halfheartedly, "Okay, I get it with Herc and Laf. I can see why you did it with Laurens and Hamilton. But seriously, Aaron, you can't give away free drinks to literally _everyone_ \- I'm sorry, Madam, but it appears you are not eligible for the deal we are currently offering."

As the remaining four turned to watch attentively, none of them missed the very obvious signs that Burr was flustered: he was fidgeting terribly, adjusting his apron, drumming his fingers against the counter and running a hand over his smooth head in repetitive succession, all the while staring at the ground so as to avoid Madison's gaze; it was a feeling he rarely even _experienced_ , and it was almost unheard of that he should go as far as to _display_ any kind of vulnerability around others. The reason for this was easily explained, however, by the fact that the woman he had not asked to pay for her drink was one recognized by the three young men.

Theodosia smiled widely at Madison, and it was only then that he actually recognized her. The embodiment of good manners, she politely corrected him, "I was under the impression I _was_ eligible. It is an offer for _couples_ , is it not?"

James nodded, realizing precisely what she meant as he watched Aaron sip at his own mug. _I take it their second date went very well, then_.

That very idea was confirmed when Theodosia leaned over the counter and pressed a sweet kiss to Burr's cheek, causing his dark skin to glow with an unexpected dash of pink staining his face, appearing as suddenly as the first streaks of incandescent pink light signalling that a long night is over. "I'm sorry it's only a flying visit," she apologised, and began to walk away, stopping only because Aaron caught her hand.

" _Never_ be sorry. It is a gift to see you for even this brief time," Aaron assured her quietly, in a soft, sincere voice he reserved only for those moments when he was being absolutely genuine. He raised her hand to his lips, recalling her love of gentlemen, and kissed her knuckles before releasing her, causing Theo to giggle as she walked away to a chorus of whoops and cheers from the four observers.

Once she had left, Aaron turned to the group, trying to glare scathingly before his internal delight shattered his disguise. He rolled his eyes without any actual irritation as he muttered, "Shut up, you idiots."

His request had no impact whatsoever, as expected. Madison chuckled and kindly placed a hand on his shoulder as he sympathetically reminded him, "Some people will simply never learn that fools who runs their mouths off wind up dead."

Burr was inclined to agree. But then, with the ephemeral kiss of Theodosia's lips still dancing upon his cheek like a ghost, he was also inclined not to care for their taunting.


	14. December 14th

**A/N: Happy Birthday Shootingstarmuffin! I hope you have a really wonderful day! I also hope you don't mind a bit of drama and ship made of a lesbian and a bisexual character, because that's what's coming up!**

 _ **TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES SOME DOMESTIC ABUSE**_

 **Because this one might be one that a few people want to avoid, I will summarize this at the start of tomorrow's chapter, meaning there is absolutely no need for anyone who fears that reading this might provoke a negative reaction to read it.**

* * *

 **December 14**

Her early exit from Fraunces' the previous day had given Eliza the opportunity to rediscover her classic gingerbread recipe, as well as to source the cookie cutters she had learned gave the best results. She had also pestered Lafayette until he had given her Maria Lewis' address, which was precisely where she was headed.

As Eliza struggled down the icy street, maintaining balance purely thanks to the large weight she carried in shopping bags on either side of her keeping her suspended between them, she realised with fleeting worry that she had not actually warned the occasionally cagey woman of her intentions, let alone actually checked that Maria was due to be in. _Laf told me she was supposed to be off work today,_ she recalled, _I just don't know if that ensures she will be staying at home._

Her fears were swiftly dismissed, however, when she saw the other woman emerge from a door carrying a black sack which she quickly dumped in a bin before turning around to return to her home.

"Maria!" The teal-clad woman called, stopping her friend in her tracks. Her already wind-chapped, rosy cheeks took on a glow of embarrassment as Maria turned to look at her and promptly began to laugh at her struggle, and she redoubled her efforts to efficiently make it to the girl's home.

Once she had managed to make it to her doorstep, Maria stepped aside, a non-verbal invitation to enter her humble abode, despite knowing nothing of why she was there or why she was so keen on Elizabeth's company that she didn't care about the reason. Even so, she _was_ curious; her red lips were a warm, smiling welcome for Eliza alone as she fondly remarked, "It's always lovely to see you, 'Liza, but why are you here?" Gesturing to the bags of freshly purchased groceries, she added, "And with half a supermarket?"

Elizabeth's blush deepened and spread, however her coquettish glance through her long eyelashes was the very embodiment of innocence as she explained, "You told me you don't really do Christmas. So I figured if we could make some of my famous gingerbread, you might have a small piece of the fun..."

She trailed off, anxiously awaiting the other woman's reaction: initially, Maria was visibly stunned to see not just that someone could be as kind as Eliza was, but that she'd even met someone who cared enough to listen to her. Not quite able to comprehend the miraculous sweetness of the young woman, she tried and failed to express her gratitude, "You..."

Misunderstanding the cause of her lack of words, Eliza placated, "I know I took you by surprise, I can leave right now if you prefer -"

"Stay," Maria insisted, her hazel eyes warm pools of liquefied autumn leaves and sweet caramel as her face broke into a grin of sheer bliss. Swiftly she took Eliza by the shoulders and kissed her cheek, eliciting an equally surprised giggle from the generous girl. It seemed to be Eliza's turn to find herself at a loss for words as she took the guest by the hands, taking the heavy bags from her in the process and leading Eliza through a door, "If we're going to make your famed gingerbread, I guess we'd better go through to the kitchen." _I may not have expected you to stroll into my apartment, or my life in general, but I know I don't want you to walk straight back out again_.

Eliza nodded and smiled, following Maria through to the small but cosy kitchen, where she quickly retrieved a string of fairy lights and a miniature Christmas tree, both of which she plugged in with a mischievous smirk before her friend could protest, and the pair began their joint endeavour, Eliza's expert hands tutoring the younger girl in her wise ways.

* * *

3 hours, 2 and a half batches of gingerbread and countless bouts of helpless giggles about nothing in particular later, and Maria and Eliza were finally concluding the great baking extravaganza. They both bore matching patches of flour dusting their faces and coating their hair; there was a small smudge of syrup smeared mischievously by Eliza over her hostess' nose, and crumbs from the gingerbread Maria had pushed playfully into her guest's mouth still gathered at the corner of Eliza's lips.

Regardless of mess, both women were overcome with absolute bliss as they retired to the sitting room, tired but satisfied as they collapsed onto the couch in tandem, leaning onto one another with the remaining traces of their plentiful laughter still whispering softly through their lips.

"You know," Maria mused, glancing up at Eliza through her heavily lidded eyes, "You were right about Christmas being fun. I suppose it _can_ be if you spend it with the right people."

"Then that settles things," Eliza decided, "You _have_ to spend Christmas at ours. There's plenty of space, and we'll all be there, it's a tradition - I _know_ you've always been a little reluctant to spend time with the lot of us all together, but I promise it will be lovely." Her sweet smile radiated hope, an honest, genuine invitation for no reason other than enjoying Maria's company.

It was something Maria couldn't say no to.

Maria hesitated momentarily, however a single moment was all it took for her to remember how much she truly loved spending time with Eliza: She had been tossed around on an uncaring sea for so long, and somehow the middle Schuyler sister was the shore she hadn't even noticed she was searching for. "Okay," she agreed, matching the happiness which Eliza showed so easily. With a jolt of surprise, she realized that it was the first time in years that she had felt completely comfortable and entirely safe. Relishing the unusual but welcome sensation, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, savouring the bizarre calmness Eliza seemed to exude in every situation.

Much as Elizabeth would have been happy to stay there with Maria, it could not last; too soon, a ring of the doorbell had summoned the girls from their comfortable silence, taking them both by surprise. Something perhaps more confusing to the middle Schuyler sister, however, was the fact that she felt Maria instantly stiffen with new tension the moment that it became clear that they could not remain in their bubble of perfect solitude.

"Hey, I can answer it if you like," Eliza offered, determined that whatever the reason for her friend's anxiety, she would not make her answer the door if she didn't feel comfortable to do so. There were still many mysteries about Maria Lewis, and although she dared to dream that one day she might untangle the many twisted threads binding her to be so secretive, for the time being she was happy to simply trust that she had her own reasons for her reticence.

However, when Maria nodded and allowed her guest to see to whoever was at the door, it took no longer than the time for Eliza to make her way to the hall and open the door a mere fraction for her to comprehend precisely why she had been so nervous:

James Reynolds paid no mind to Eliza as he forced the door all the way open, knocking her backwards, and shouldered past her to stand in the hall. There, he stopped, whirled around to face the woman and growled insistently, "Where is she?"

Outrage evident in the way her usually placid expression was made stormy, she summoned a facade of courage and met his piercing, bloodshot eyes, stepping forward to sternly demand, "Who do you think you are, barging in here, where you have no right or reason to be?"

He sneered, his mouth twisting into a disconcerting, humourless grin as he praised with slurred words laced with sarcasm in addition to the alcohol which he simply reeked of, "Very brave, now tell me where she is and run home to Mommy and Daddy!" Before Eliza could reply, he had turned away from her and began staggering down the hall, calling in a rough, hoarse voice, "Maria! Stop messing me around!"

Growing desperate, Elizabeth lunged forward, grabbing him by the wrist and spitting out an uncharacteristic fib, "She's not here!"

Reynolds snatched his arm away from her, glaring at her with palpable, searing rage, and began to raise his other fist, muttering as he did so, "Don't lie to me, you little -"

"James!" Maria's voice cracked with the absolute terror of being brought face to face with the man who had broken her capacity for trust for so long as she emerged from the sitting room, pressing herself against the wall to place as much distance between them as possible without abandoning her friend to the malicious man completely. Eliza could see the tears forming in her eyes, nevertheless there was pure, unadulterated rage in her voice as she fiercely warned, "Don't you _dare_."

Reynolds didn't even hear her words, but he complied even so, forgetting the stranger as soon as he saw his ex girlfriend standing there before him. He reached out for her, stepping closer until he could draw a clammy hand through her wavy brown hair.

Eliza's stomach twisted in sympathy as she watched Maria visibly cringe, and she stepped closer. Maria gave a tiny but expressive shake of her head, an urgent warning to the sheltered girl, _Just leave, you don't need to see this, I can handle him._

But that was not something she was willing to let happen. As Reynolds leaned down to kiss Maria, her jaw gripped between his fingers and thumb, Eliza took a hold of his shoulders, grunting with the effort of moving the muscular man, "You aren't wanted here." Silently praying for strength, she exerted her best effort to pull the man away, recalling a few snippets of information she had learned from Peggy about the best way to overpower someone larger than herself and using every trick she could remember to push the man out of the door and slam it in his face.

Both women were breathless, and shaken to the point of being speechless as they waited for James Reynolds to tire of pounding on the door. Eventually, he gave up, and Eliza stopped leaning against the panel. She made her way to Maria as she softly murmured, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, swallowing her tears and somehow summoning the courage to paint on a smile as she assured, "I'm fine. He's been worse than that before. I'm just so relieved you were here to stop him." Eliza opened her arms to the girl who was clearly disturbed following their encounter with the man, and Maria needed no more convincing to throw herself into the comforting embrace, breathing in the soothing scent of Eliza's sweet vanilla perfume and clutching onto her as though her life depend on it. Her voice became weak and was occasionally interrupted by hiccups or sobs, but she continued to valiantly insist, "It's fine, honestly... He doesn't do that often, only when he's had a lot to drink..."

Eliza hummed quietly, stroking Maria's back until she seemed calm enough to move elsewhere. When that moment came, she lead her through to the sitting room, and pulled a blanket from down the side of the sofa to wrap the younger woman in. Then, she sat beside her, placing a hand on her knee as she insisted, "You're safe from him now, I promise." There was lingering fear in her own dark gaze, but the shaking of her hands was barely noticeable, and her face was the picture of composure as she continued, "You don't have to explain anything to me, but if you want to, I will listen."

Maria hesitated, tempted to hold things in as she always did. But then, she felt she owed Eliza some sort of explanation after all she had done, and so, drawing a deep breath to calm her nerves, she nodded. "I _want_ to tell you. It's supposed to help, right?"

Eliza nodded her confirmation. True to her word, she listened as Maria recounted the sad tale of the man who had charmed her in the days before he started drinking and gambling to excess, and how once he had began along that dark path, he had been consumed by it, allowing cruelty to seep out of his every move and taking the form of bruises upon her skin until the day she left him and decided to live alone. And all the while, she held the younger woman, assuring her in every moment of silence that she was safe, stroking circles over her hands as she cradled them between her own, and reminding her that she had made the right decision to leave him.

When her confession came to an end, Maria heaved a sigh of relief, a look of peacefulness settling upon her delicate features as she decided, "I'm glad I told someone. You're a good listener."

"And I'm happy to be one," Eliza swiftly reminded her, truly meaning it when she offered, "I can listen to anything you have to say. I'll be here for you, for as long as you need me to be."

This time, the tears which tumbled down Maria's cheeks were borne of pure appreciation. Elizabeth immediately pulled her in for another embrace, and she leaned into the elder girl, allowing herself to melt at the sweet words and baring more emotions than she had felt comfortable to reveal in a long time. Barely parting her lips, she mumbled, "I'm so lucky you're here."

She felt Eliza's mouth curl into a smile as she corrected, "We are _both_ so lucky to have one another right now. You're incredibly strong Maria, don't you forget that."

In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, Maria admitted coyly, "I don't _feel_ strong - I feel exhausted." As she saw renewed concern cloud the midnight sky of Eliza's deep onyx eyes, she added, "Baking is a tiring process."

Eliza nodded, but her worry still lingered. Tucking a strand of hair behind Maria's ear, she agreed, "You're right. I think you should get some rest, it's been a long day." _And not_ just _because of the baking,_ she silently remarked.

Hardly keen to seem rude, Maria was tempted to protest, but a yawn seemed to answer in compliance before she could speak against the idea. Reluctantly tempted by the tiredness which tugged at the edges of her mind, she submitted, "Fine. I'll clean myself up first, and then I'll go to bed." She glanced at the clock on the wall, noticing for the first time that it was far later than she had realized. With a groan, she grudgingly remarked, "I suppose I'd better clean up the kitchen before I do that, though."

"No!" Eliza insisted, hopping gracefully to her feet. "You shower, I'll make a start on the kitchen." Before the woman could protest yet another act of kindness she felt she was not owed, she pressed a finger to her lips and teased with an attempt to be stern, "That's not something I am willing to compromise on, Miss Lewis."

For the first time since Reynolds had left, Maria giggled, and without forming any actual argument against her, she obeyed, retreating to the bathroom while she reluctantly permitted her guest to make, as she claimed "a start" on clearing the mess they had created together.

To the detriment of Maria's pride, _"a start_ " didn't quite cover it. Working swiftly and diligently, the efficient girl had ensured within fifteen minutes that there was not a trace of flour or syrup or even an unwashed bowl within the room, and had even found time to wipe away the flour dusting her own hair. She stood waiting for her hostess to return, beaming when she did as though nothing at all had gone wrong. "Everything is clean now, so you can get straight on with resting." Her smile faltered, and her voice became a quiet, conspiratorial murmur as she asked, "Would you like me to stay, or would you rather be alone for now?"

"Alone," Maria responded definitively, before trying to retract her choice, "I mean, you're welcome to stay for as long as you like, I don't mean to seem rude, I just -"

"Need a little while to be quiet and just think about things?" Eliza offered, cocking her head as she tried to deduce her friend's true answer.

Maria's expression became one of relief as she confessed, "Yes, that's just it. You _have_ been wonderful, don't think I'm not grateful, I just -"

"It's okay, Maria," Elizabeth assured, stepping closer. Her voice reduced even further in volume, becoming an intimate whisper as she promised, "Everything is okay now." Unsurprisingly, they both knew she referred to more than just Maria's request for her to leave.

There was truly nothing more to say: Eliza had no desire to hear how deeply and genuinely Maria appreciated everything she had done for her that day, and Maria had no words to express her feelings anyway. The best she could manage was, "Goodbye. You are a godsend, Elizabeth Schuyler."

She flushed pink with pleasure, and took Maria's hands in hers as she replied, "Likewise." She leaned in for one final parting embrace, and as she did so she instructed, "Call me if you need me. I'll be here." She pulled away and pecked her friend on the cheek before turning and walking away, letting herself out and pausing only to send a cheerful wave in the woman's direction.

And then, Maria Lewis was alone once more, though this time she didn't feel it. It was rare that she trusted people at all, and rarer still that she turned to anyone else when her troubles weighed heavily on her heart.

But this time, she knew that both of these occurrences could be applied to Eliza. And though she didn't want to lean on anyone else and be a burden to them, knowing that she _could_ if the situation arose filled her with an unfamiliar sense of comfort.

 _You are a precious jewel, Elizabeth. I don't know how you happened to fall into my lap, but I know now that I need you._

* * *

 **A/N: Yikes, we've got some drama! I hope this was still fluffy enough to make you happyish though...**

 **Also, I feel like maybe the relationships in this story move pretty fast. I guess that's just because there are so many to focus on that the bits focusing on specific pairs have to be kinda speedy. I hope you don't mind too much!**

 **Also, I can't stress enough, if you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, it is so important to try and remove yourself or them from that situation.**

 **Thanks for reading, and take care! xxx**


	15. December 15th

**A/N:** **As promised, to summarize the last chapter, Eliza wanted to share a little bit of Christmas with Maria, so she visited her and they made gingerbread together. It was cute, and Eliza invited Maria to spend Christmas day with the rest of the group at the Schuyler household, to which she agreed. Then, James Reynolds stormed in, went for Maria and was quickly removed by Eliza. Maria, being shaken, told Eliza of her history with Reynolds and of how he was an abusive alcoholic, but feels very much comforted by Eliza.**

 **Well I hope you're feeling pretty homosexual today, because we've got a triple scoop of same-sex love coming right up!**

 **It's 10 days till Christmas, guys! (Actually it's 2 days till Halloween, but hey)**

 **Let's open door number 15 then!**

* * *

 **December 15**

It took no longer than the short time in which Lafayette left his bed and flung open his curtains, full of the joyful optimism with which he always greeted the morning, for him to decide it was high time for he and his newly acquired boyfriend to put into action their plan to spread the love to those who were in urgent need of it - and in urgent need of _each other._

As the dim, grey light filtered through the net curtains and infiltrated Hercules' closed eyelids, the tailor groaned in protest, moaning as he did so a phrase which sounded vaguely similar to, "Babe, it's too early. Come back to sleep." (Though with a simultaneous yawn stretching his mouth into a wide "o", his words were not entirely clear.)

A lazy smile appearing on his lips, Lafayette returned to the man, and knelt down to kiss him softly so as to end his complaining before he revealed, "Mon amour, réveillez-vous..." excitement quickly overcame the tenderness in his voice as he informed his lover, "It has snowed!"

The response was instantaneous: within a single fluid motion containing what appeared to be too much elegance for a man with his enviably muscular build, Hercules had bolted upright, dived over the many hand knitted throws on the bed and launched himself towards the window to see the glorious sight for himself. And indeed, it _was_ glorious, a thick blanket of white smothering every surface and causing the usual bustling hubbub of noise perpetually prevalent in New York to be stiffed somewhat. Already, he could spot some teenagers in the distance lobbing snowballs at one another. The next heartbeat saw him reaching the very same conclusion his lover had found the moment he saw the snow-drenched paradise waiting for them. He grinned widely, and turned to the Frenchman who had come to stand beside him as he checked, "Tell me, my dearest Gilbert, is this not the perfect day to embark on operation Lams?"

Lafayette frowned with a lack of comprehension, and pouted, assuming the appearance of a sweet, innocent child and successfully causing Mulligan's heart to expand in his chest and press against his ribs as he queried, "What is _operation Lams?_ "

His boyfriend rolled his eyes and explained, "Our genius plan to bring Alexander and John together, thereby making Lams cannon." Traces of confusion still lingered in Laf's gaze, so Hercules was compelled to elaborate, "Lams is their ship name - Peggy came up with it. I know it doesn't make the most sense, but it's got the first and last letter to Laurens, and the middle bit of Hamilton... It's like a ham sandwich," he finished with a shrug, remembering the way the youngest Schuyler had described it to him initially.

Lafayette shook his head, and promptly decided, "It could be better." He took a few moments longer to ponder the practicalities of the tenuous ship name, before adding, "It's cute, I think - it reminds me of a baby - how you say? - mouton."

Hercules was happy to agree with both of those points, if only to hush his lover for long enough that he could steal a quick kiss from him. When he pulled away, it was with the small criticism, "You know, a lamb is a baby _sheep_ in English."

Again, Lafayette appeared confused, this time because, "I thought sheep was the plural?"

It was a semi-valid comment, however Mulligan had different priorities other than explaining the few grammatical errors in the Frenchman's understanding of the English language. Namely, making out with him, which was precisely what he resorted to in order to avoid the question.

* * *

"John!" The shout came from the far end of the street, but amongst his vast plethora of skills of varying degrees of utility, one which Alexander Hamilton displayed very regularly was his ability to project, so much so that Laurens could hear him as clearly as if he was standing beside him.

"Alexander," Laurens called back, making his way to the park just around the corner from where Herc and Laf shared a flat and drawing gradually closer to his best friend as he did so. "I guess they pulled you into this too?"

"Yep," Alexander confirmed, jogging the rest of the way towards John, only to slide straight into him when he tried to stop. He steadied himself against Laurens' chest, fortunately not _too_ preoccupied with trying not to fall over and humiliate himself in front of his crush to forget to appreciate the sturdy strength in Laurens' toned body, clearly there hiding just beneath his thin jacket. "They said something about getting the four of us together for a snowball battle, which I _assume_ means it's just those lovebirds and you and me."

"Sounds good to me," Laurens replied with a confident smile. Or perhaps it was just that he enjoyed Alexander saying _lovebirds_ and _you and me_ in the same sentence.

They were interrupted by a thunderous call from somewhere inside the park, "Hamilton and Laurens, save the flirting for when you're face down in the snow trying to convince yourselves you can pull back a victory!" The comment came from Hercules, who could not be seen, but it was accompanied by a soaring sphere of snow flung from somewhere inside the branches of a tree, moments before the large man scrambled down the trunk, an airborne weapon of mass destruction which sailed neatly into the tiny gap between the two men, causing them to spring apart briefly, before moving closer again and hurrying into the park.

"You two against us!" Lafayette chirped, enthusiastically running towards the newcomers. Shortly after, a second missile found it's way onto John's shoulder, his famously flawless aim not failing him. His speed also served him well, enabling him to run swiftly out of throwing range to stand beside Hercules before either John or Alex could respond.

John was fast enough to turn to Alexander, however, and pull him close enough that their foreheads touched as he vehemently informed him, "This is _war_. I've got your back, Alexander - you're the closest friend I've got."

Alex matched his intensity as he confirmed, "Likewise. We've got this." He was almost reluctant to step away from John, but another snowball hissing dangerously close to them left them with no choice but to face and retaliate against the onslaught

Without any more deliberation, all four men set about crafting snowballs and tossing them as fast as they could manage. Hercules' broad shoulders made him seem an easier target than his ally, however it was easy to forget his incredible ability to evade most of the spheres of doom by running and dodging in all directions. Lafayette had a more practical approach than his boyfriend's, selecting a fallen log to crouch behind where he had already stockpiled a considerable number of snowballs.

They were by no means the definitive champions, however; Laurens was as reckless as he was unrelenting, his limbs electrified by the knowledge that his crush was watching him and depending on him, and that rendered him even more desperate to impress Hamilton than his already competitive attitude made him anyway. He was given to hunting down his victims even when they ran, chasing them and screaming expletives which were too distorted to actually recognize, before growing close enough to hurl powdered snow directly at the unfortunate man who had become his prey. Alexander - when not completely enraptured by the sight of John's bizarre approach - matched Lafayette's tactical brilliance, choosing a rock to kneel behind as he did everything within his power to impress Laurens.

It was a fairly even match until Laurens excelled himself in risky behaviour.

He ran directly towards Lafayette's base, but Hercules darted too close for him to pass up the opportunity to fling the snowball he had prepared at him. Had he been a metre further away, he would have been fine, but the positioning had been planned by the lovers such that Laurens was left entirely unarmed within a foot of the Frenchman. It was then that he made his critical mistake (though five minutes of reflection would soon make him grateful for his folly). Rather than retreat at breakneck speed, he ducked down with the intention of making a new snowball, leaving his neck exposed and offering the perfect target for Lafayette's next missile.

Not only did it strike the back of John's next, but the majority of the oversized snowball fell straight down the inside of his shirt when he bolted to his feet in shock.

John screamed, a sound Alexander echoed, while Hercules dashed to his boyfriend to congratulate him, safe in the belief that neither of their stunned opponents would be focusing on launching another attack on them when Laurens had been ambushed so terribly.

Shamefaced and shuddering, Laurens retreated to the relative safety of Alex's rock, where his comrade immediately pulled him into a tight embrace. His ceaseless running seemed to catch up with him, and he could hardly catch his breath sufficiently to pant, "He got me, Alex... He got me bad."

Alexander's dark, soul-snaring brown eyes widened in horror and genuine panic, as he assured, "Okay, John, I've got you. My dear Laurens, you're going to make it. And I'm going to avenge you," he added as an afterthought, filled with absolute conviction as he made the spontaneous promise

True to his word, Alex continued to half-embrace John, as he redoubled his efforts to strike the crowing couple who were now both residing behind their log. Fuelled with the knowledge that his love had been subjected to the revolting sensation of having ice travel down his spine, Alexander seemed to become better than ever. His opponents were tired, yet he was alive, and somehow he made every snowball meet it's mark while miraculously avoiding most of those tossed in his direction, all the time listening as Laurens mumbled something through numb lips - words of encouragement, presumably.

As Alexander's arm around his shoulder brought feeling back to every frozen extremity of his body, John turned to watch the pair sheltering behind the log, before his attention turned to something just above them. With the chill still making his words sound stiff and awkward, Laurens suggested, "The branch."

Confused, Alexander followed Laurens' hazel gaze to the snowladen branch above Hercules and Lafayette. As he understood, his eyes lit with renewed excitement, as he declared, "John Laurens, I believe I am in love with you and your glorious brain." _Wait, what are you saying, Alexander? Okay, keep cool, it's one of those "bro things" Herc was always going on about, before he and Laf got together. It's fine, he probably isn't paying attention to what you're saying,_ he assured himself. Hardly leaving a beat between sentences, Alexander continued as though he had not betrayed the innermost feelings of his heart. He summoned an effortlessly charming smile, and invited, "Do you think you could manage to hit it?"

John met Alex's gaze with his own wide eyed, stunned surprise. _Did he just say he was in love with me?_ John didn't quite know how to respond to that one, so he concentrated on the second statement. He pulled himself from Alexander's embrace, a stone facade of absolute determination setting his face into a frown as he assured, "I can do it - for the sake of our liberty!" His voice rose to a more characteristic shout, and he rose with it, his frozen condition forgotten as he seized a snowball handed to him by Alexander and launched the tightly packed sphere into the branch. He screamed in absolute euphoria as he watched the scene unfold as if in slow motion:

First was the confusion evident on Hercules' and Lafayette's faces as John thew his snowball far above them, followed by the terrible realization of his plan as the snowball struck the branch. They exchanged a look of sheer terror in the millisecond before they were both coated in a large smothering of snow which infiltrated every crevice.

And then Alexander was there joining him in his shouts of victory, standing and holding him again while he jumped up and down maniacally, declaring far too loudly, "Laurens, you are incredible!" And just like that, the time was whirling past him too fast, taking Alexander's embrace away from him too soon despite the fact that his arm still remained comfortably around his waist.

Struggling under the snow, it took some effort for Hercules to unwrap the white scarf from around his neck, but he did so, and waved it as a symbol of their resignation as Lafayette declared with resignation and a flourish of his hands, "Alright, that's enough, vous êtes victorieux!"

Laurens turned to Alexander, a smug grin on his features _. It is surprising how much you can be warmed by a hug from the one who matters more to you than all others._ He exuded satisfaction as he remarked, "I think that went quite well, don't you?"

"Exceptionally well," Alexander agreed, matching Laurens' expression.

And suddenly, the sacrifice the matchmakers had made didn't seem so awful at all. Smiling in spite of the fact that he and his lover were both coated in snow, Hercules pulled Lafayette to his feet, and they approached the victorious team. Unwilling to interrupt the obvious chemistry between them which had been heightened by the excessively competitive game, Herc suggested, "You two should go to the Tavern to warm up. I think Laf and I need to go home."

"We need to take a long, hot shower," Lafayette clarified with a mischievous wink which spoke volumes. He pouted in feigned innocence as Alex and John exchanged a knowing look, falsely pretending, "Not together, of course." The glance he shot Mulligan suggested otherwise, however, and it was clear that both men were eager to make a hasty exit as Laf concluded, "Go to Fraunces'. Bye, mes champions!"

Left alone and semi-snow-coated in the park, Alexander shrugged as he admitted, "Coffee from the Tavern _does_ sound good right about now. Plus, I'm worried about you, my brave soldier - you've been through a hard battle."

Laurens chuckled, almost entirely masking the fact that his heart seemed to stop when Alex admitted he was concerned for him. Rolling his eyes in contradiction to the reality that he was simply basking in the glow of what that comment implied, John agreed, "It does sound good. I'm pretty sure Burr will kill us if we go there and melt all over his sofas, though."

Alexander pondered the idea, before his face split into a playful, wry smile. He set off on the path towards the park exit, pulling Laurens with him as he voiced his internal thoughts, "A quarrel with Burr? That sounds like the perfect addition to this wonderful day."

* * *

By all accounts, Maria Lewis was alone.

She sat in her home, engulfed by an enormous red blanket, watching what must have been at least her eighteenth episode of _Friends_ that day, gorging herself on the gingerbread biscuits she and Eliza had baked the previous day.

She _was_ alone, but she was _not_ lonely - not with her phone in her hand, buzzing every thirty seconds with a new message from Eliza.

Then, her phone rang, with the only ringtone she'd actually bothered to personalize, and she answered with an indulgent smile as Eliza continued a conversation they had initiated via text.

"I can come over if you want the company," she offered, insisting before Maria could flatly refuse, "I swear, it's no bother."

"Liza, I'm slumped on my couch wearing nothing but my underwear under this blanket," Maria shamelessly revealed, chuckling at her friend's unrivalled generosity.

She could imagine the sparkling, playful smirk lighting up Eliza's face as she replied, "That sounds fine to me." She heard Maria giggle at that, and though she couldn't actually see the blush which painted her cheeks, she was certain it was there, hence her further daring flirtation, "Hey, maybe I could even join you under there?"

"Liza!" Maria squeaked in joyful incredulity, not quite sure if the urge to scold her or take her up on that offer was stronger. _But no_ , she reminded herself, _it's not fair to drag her out into the snow._ Composing herself, she reluctantly replied, "Much as I would love that, I would much rather knowing you were safe in your own home with a hot chocolate."

Eliza sighed, clearly reluctant to admit defeat as she submitted, "Okay. But promise me you'll take care of yourself if you won't let me come round to do it for you."

Maria nodded, still struggling to handle Eliza's caring attitude despite having grown considerably closer to her over the past couple of weeks. And then she remembered that she couldn't see her, so she murmured, "Okay. And you too."

Elizabeth laughed melodically, and reassured Maria, "You don't need to worry about me, I promise."

Neither of them spoke for a while, yet nor did either woman feel an urge to end the call. The quiet between them was comfortable, and it didn't shatter so much as gently drift away like a fluffy cloud on a mild day as Maria mumbled, "I'll let you go now."

"Okay. Thanks for the chat."

"Thank _you_ ," Maria responded emphatically. She was tempted to allow the tirade lurking just behind her lips to seep out so that she could explain to Eliza exactly what she was thankful for.

But she didn't have to. It was curious how much the girls had bonded in the short time since they first made the effort to actually get to know one another, and it was even more unusual to Maria that her friend seemed to understand without any explanation required as to precisely how far her gratitude went. Eliza only murmured in a soft, gentle voice so comforting that it seemed the audible equivalent of being wrapped in a familiar, cosy embrace, "Goodbye, then."

"Goodbye."

After a moment's hesitation, Maria hung up. Another further moment saw her violently cussing at the helplessly romantic nature of her own heart. The offending organ was not even something that she could reprimand, however, because it was firmly in Eliza's hands.

Unbeknownst to Maria, for all her sugary innocence, Eliza was doing the exact same thing.


	16. December 16th

**A/N: Hey Readers! How's your December going? I really hope you're all having a lovely time right now, because knowing that you're reading this and leaving reviews and doing nice things makes _me_ really happy and I just hope you have some of that happiness in your own life! And hey, I guess I aspire to help you with that!**

 **Anyway, let's have another slice of Our Main Antagonist™ who is now hassling somebody other than Maria..**

* * *

 **December 16**

With winter having utterly ensnared the city, setting an icy deathtrap of stale, compacted snow on the ground which threatened to capture anyone who didn't place their feet down so that their weight was properly balanced, it was hardly surprising that Peggy, on her way home from a late night working at the law firm, lost her balance and came perilously close to falling down and sustaining some injury which could potentially earn her a place in a hospital bed.

But she didn't, because a not-quite-stranger was suddenly there with his arm around her, pulling her to her feet to prevent that from happening.

She glanced up at her aide, only to have the air knocked out of her by a realisation:

He was handsome, there could be no doubt about that, with his tan skin, sharp jawline, and piercing dark eyes, but it was not how he looked so much as the fact that Peggy knew she had seen the man before - namely, when he had approached her at the Tavern, clearly mistaking her for someone he believed he was entitled to drag away from wherever she was.

Filled suddenly with a feeling of anxiety, Peggy stepped out of his admittedly helpful arm, increasing her pace as she ordered, "Get away from me."

The man followed at a close range, persistent as he insisted, "Come on, I helped you, didn't I? Don't I at least deserve a chance to explain myself?"

"I don't need explanations from a man I have only encountered once before, when you accosted me in a café, reeking of alcohol," she snarled emphatically, keen to drive him away before he became aggressive again, this time with no James Madison around to help her.

The man's eyes widened, and he seemed to realize something - yet again, he had blundered in identifying the girl who so closely resembled his former victim. He bit his lip, looking momentarily as though he wished he could disappear immediately, before he collected himself from his mistake and forced a smile as he revealed, "Sorry. I mistook you for... someone else. When I saw you at the café, I mean. So I see you here, and I figure I should apologise - you're obviously not who I thought, and you probably think I'm crazy, but she and I went through a situation and I was very drunk back then, and I promise I'm much better now I'm sober." The fib spilled fluently from his lips, a testament to how much he had practiced lying. He waited in anticipation for the young girl's response. He knew now that she wasn't Maria, however she was still attractive, and if he could just charm her, there was a chance he could find a new girlfriend in the woman currently staring at him through narrowed eyes.

A part of her rational mind was inclined to keep walking. Her eldest sister would have, she was certain, and the two of them weren't too dissimilar. The middle sister, however, might have been intrigued, and inclined to trust the man, and Peggy had plenty in common with Eliza's optimistic, trusting heart, too.

Curiosity and naivete won out, and she nodded once as she agreed, "I can spare half an hour if you want to get a coffee or something."

The man grinned widely, and chuckled as he decided, "I'm keener on 'or something' right now. I know a great club, it's just round the corner, and it does really reasonably priced drinks." At the prospect of drinking with the stranger, Peggy's resolve appeared to visibly falter, however he assured her before she could change her mind, "It's half an hour, right? So one drink, then you can go and get on with your night."

"Fine," Peggy agreed with a sigh, trying to crush any doubts and evoke the more outgoing side of her personality. "One thing, though; I _do_ need to know your name."

The man slung a casual arm around her shoulder and led her down the road, still smiling confidently as he told her, "James. Reynolds."

* * *

Reynolds' club of choice happened to be the Louisiana, the establishment owned by one Thomas Jefferson. He wasn't even supposed to be working that evening, however he had been called in late to cover someone who had come down with the flu, and he had decided that it was better to spend an additional night behind the bar than having an employee infect all of his clients with a thoroughly unpleasant disease. Yet it happened to be a fortunate coincidence that he was there that night, because it put him in prime position to recognize the youngest of the Schuyler women, accompanied by a man he _had_ seen before, but never with the sweet young woman he was presently willing to buy a drink for. Instead, the last time he had encountered Reynolds, it had been to toss him out of the venue for being excessively drunk.

As soon as he saw them enter, he made his way to the section of the bar they stood at, and awkwardly greeted the girl he'd spent next to no time talking to in the years since his friendship with Lafayette and Madison's position working in her regular café had brought them to the outskirts of one another's lives, "Hey, Peggy, Pegs, Pegster - what's up?"

She chuckled, and retorted, "At this point, I feel like I should ask you the same question. I know you're trying to seduce my sister or something, but you _really_ don't have to resort to nicknames with me."

Pretending he wasn't entirely embarrassed by the fact that the girl (along with most people) could recognise that he was trying to bond with Angelica, he continued, "What can I get for you - and your new friend, for that matter?"

"Just a cola for me," she requested, before turning to the man at her side. His raised eyebrow seemed to challenge her, so she altered her order, "Actually, I'll have a Margarita, please. James?"

"Whiskey," he stated flatly, not even bringing himself to look at Jefferson; his main focus was Peggy Schuyler, anything else was a meaningless diversion. And, from the way she smiled politely and engaged freely in conversation with him, it seemed that showering her with his undivided attention was actually being successful at chasing away her doubts.

Never one to be easily unnerved, even Thomas had to acknowledge there was something untoward about the situation when a feeling of instinctive unease settled in the pit of his stomach. He grimaced, passing it off as a smile, and excused himself, however when he retreated further along the bar if was not to immediately fix their drinks, but to pull out his mobile and call his closest friend.

"Thomas? Are you at work, I can hear the awful franco-hip-hop you insist on playing, why are you calling me?"

"French music is _not_ awful, James. And to be honest, now isn't the time for you to criticize," Thomas insisted. When Madison made no more comments, he began, "I don't want to call Angelica in case it's nothing, but Peggy just showed up at the Louisiana with some weird, super intense bald guy, he's caused trouble in here before and I remembered what you said about that pissed dude trying to drag her out of the Tavern the other week, and I don't know, something about this whole thing just seems off."

James could sense Jefferson's palpable concern even over the weak signal tying him to the man and the heavy baseline pulsing in the background. There was a beat of silence, before James decided, "You should call Angelica."

* * *

Needless to say, Peggy wasn't best pleased to have her sister arrive without warning five minutes later, wearing the outfit she had donned for her abandoned date with her boyfriend as well as a stormy, stony expression she reserved for those who posed a threat to her family. As soon as she entered the Louisiana, Thomas was waiting for her, and he quickly grabbed her hand without a word and lead her through the crowds to the pair at the bar.

Peggy was giggling, clearly having a good time, owing predominantly to the slight giddiness created by drinking on a near-empty stomach. The man she was with, however, had something else lurking in his eyes, and even the classy, low lighting in the nightclub didn't obscure it completely.

Skin curling as he set a large hand on her sister's forearm, Angelica ripped her hand away from Thomas and closed the distance between herself and her sister. She immediately wrapped a protective arm around the youngest of her siblings, in doing so forcing Reynolds' hand away from her, and although Peggy was clearly startled, Angelica showed no such uncertainty as she turned to Reynolds and informed him, "I think the time for men taking much younger girls to bars in a misguided attempt to get them drunk and take advantage of their naivete is over, pal. If I'm being honest, I think that was scheduled to stop about fifty years ago." Reynolds finally tore his lecherous gaze away from Peggy to glare at Angelica, a look which she returned with matching disgust radiating from her. "Go on, leave her alone," she instructed.

Reynolds continued to stare at her for a few seconds, during which it became clear that she would not be intimidated or won over in the same way her sister had. With a growl of irritation building in the back of his throat, he grimaced, scrawled something down on a piece of paper, and handed it to Peggy, telling her as he did so, "Call me some time, a'ight?"

"Sure," Peggy confirmed, pocketing the paper before Angelica could destroy it. Once James had left, she turned to her sister, the haze of the highly diluted alcohol fading somewhat. She was more exasperated than incensed as she asked, "Do you mind explaining what that was?"

Angelica was not at all ashamed to reveal, "Thomas told me a suspicious man had brought you here. It sounded bad, so I came to check on you, and to be perfectly honest I'm glad he called, because the look in his eyes was not one I would have wanted to allow to progress into actions."

" _What_?"

"He was staring at you like a lion stares at a gazelle, Peggy." She smiled apologetically, understanding exactly why her sister had every right to be annoyed, and assured her, "I _know_ you're not a kid, and you _can_ handle yourself. But if there's a chance for me to protect you from an incident waiting to happen, am I not allowed to interfere?"

Peggy, too, managed to smile, but her brows were knitted together in consternation. She leaned into Angelica, showing there were no hard feelings, but even so she groaned as she countered, "No, you're not... I _know_ you're a genius, but I think you were wrong this time. He was hot and interesting, and I _am_ going to call him, Angelica." Her sister pulled away and opened her mouth to argue, but Peggy silenced her, more for the sake of being stubborn than because she was genuinely enthusiastic about seeing Reynolds again, "No, please, let me be the judge of what is and isn't a good idea. I mean, I _am_ the one who spent the past half hour talking to this guy, unlike you, who just tossed him out of this establishment."

Though she still felt deeply distrustful, she was wise enough to recognize that she had admittedly gotten involved in something her sister would have rather she stayed away from, and that in protesting any more, she could easily touch a nerve and provoke a real argument. So instead, she shrugged, trusting that she would come to her senses in her own time, and murmured, "Please, whatever you do, take care."

Peggy nodded, a reluctant acceptance appearing in her eyes, and took another sip of her drink.

During this time, Thomas had returned to his position behind the bar, and now the sisters had evidently concluded their discussion he leaned over, grinning at Angelica as he drawled, "I know from the looks of you that you have plans..."

Angelica laughed at that, recalling John's face of utter confusion as she showed up on his doorstep, answered a phone call without even greeting him, then walked away without stopping to justify her strange exit. "I was _meant_ to be going on a date, but that plan was ditched as soon as I heard about my little Peggy's predicament."

Thomas pouted in mock pity as he falsely sympathized, "You _poor_ thing, having to give up a dull evening with your boring boyfriend to visit my establishment."

"I know - it's simply awful," Angelica moaned, though the playful smirk spreading across her glossed lips proved that she was only joking, poking at what she knew to be Jefferson's most sensitive area: his pride.

He matched her demeanour, and twisted a tendril of hair around his finger as he invited, "Well then please, as the owner of this bar, allow me to formally apologise for your negative experience. Perhaps a free drink might do something to improve your feelings towards my humble business?" He set a hand on hers as he spoke, as always trying to woo the seemingly unflappable woman.

Angelica glanced away, a trace of true regret in her words as she decided, "Sorry, but I can't tonight; Peggy and I should be going home."

Having observed with silent interest, Peggy swiftly interrupted, "You don't need to leave for my sake. Stay, have a drink with Jefferson, and I can make my own way home."

"No need," another quiet voice contradicted, appearing as if from thin air. In reality, it had been from a brisk walk which had forced him to use his asthma pump and left him struggling for breath, but in the heat of the club his fast breathing didn't seem out of place. Both Schuyler sisters and Jefferson looked at the newcomer with surprise, prompting Madison to explain, "I was worried, so here I am. If you want some company to walk home, I guess I can do that."

Her initial instinct was to sharply remind them all of the fact that she was definitely _not_ a child and storm out. But she had enough foresight to see that Angelica would just follow her, and enough esteem for James Madison that she didn't want to leave him with that clearly recognisable worry in his eyes, or contribute to new disappointment there. And so, mustering a grudging smile, Peggy accepted, "If it will satisfy my sister, fine."

With that, she kissed Angelica's cheek, linked arms with Madison, and the pair left the Louisiana.

They walked in silence for a while, both too focused on other tasks to bother making small talk, namely working out how to navigate perilously icy streets in heels without leaning into a certain companion for Peggy and figuring out how to regain a regular breathing rate for James - he wasn't so sure his asthma was entirely culpable for the way his breath presently seemed to be swept away.

After a few minutes, however, both settled into a rhythm that worked, and beginning to feel an urge to fill the silence, Peggy mentioned casually, "I love this song."

James frowned, only to notice that yes, amongst the bustling noise of New York streets at pique Christmas shopping time, he could hear a faint melody floating through the street which originated from a busker with a guitar and a gravelly voice, a song he recognized after a moment as _Have yourself merry little Christmas_. "Me too," he confessed bashfully, and, after a moment's hesitation, he began to hum along, providing the pair with music long after they had passed the man on the street corner.

As James concluded his rendition of piece, however, Peggy disturbed the calm, easy atmosphere with a question she was truly invested in hearing the answer to: "Why did you come?" _Of all people, I don't quite understand why James Madison is the one to show up when I'm in what Angelica deems to be an unsafe situation_.

He shrugged, flushing with embarrassment as he confessed, "Thomas called me and told me you were with some strange guy. I _may_ have mentioned that dude from the coffee shop a while ago, so I guess he figured I'd make a good judge on whether it seemed like the kind of thing that warranted your sister's intervention." _Oh no, there is literally not a way to explain that doesn't make it sound strange - I just hope she focuses more on the fact that I was genuinely concerned about her than the fact that I talk about her to my best friend_. Internally, he was terrified of a negative response, and his body language reflected this, since externally he was shrinking into his scarf to escape her observant gaze.

Peggy bit her lip as she mused aloud, "That all sounds fine... But he didn't _ask_ you to come help out. And yet, miraculously, here you are." Her words, though not technically a question, pressed him to explain himself.

Voice becoming little more than a mumble as he reluctantly confessed what had driven him to come running when he feared she was in danger, he confessed, "I was worried about you. I know I have no right to be because I am just a humble barista at your regular coffee joint, but when I heard that you might be at risk, I don't know, I just wanted to make sure that you weren't." He winced, cursing himself for being so open, and awaited her reply - _Providing she actually says something before running away and deciding never to see me ever again_.

Peggy was quiet for a heartbeat, touched by the unanticipated admission from James - she had always found him to be something of an enigma, quietly serving coffee in his polite, reserved way, yet now he had suddenly told her more than she had ever expected to hear from him. Her own voice soft with new affection, she replied, "James... That's really sweet. You're a good guy, you know that? And for the record, you're _not_ 'just a barista' to me, not anymore, not since you took me ice skating." He chuckled fondly at the memory, spurring her to continue, "You're my friend. A really good one, at that."

Madison beamed, and for the first time Peggy truly paid attention to the way his eyes crinkled prettily when he did so.

They spent the rest of the walk in comfortable silence, Peggy's shoulder knocking against Madison's arm now and then, and Madison stealing furtive glances at her when she wasn't looking. It was unusual, yet somehow the man who always stood somewhat in the shadow of his best friend and the woman who had to struggle to shine as brightly as her sisters found a likeminded comrade in one another, and that was a thought Peggy found so unexpectedly comforting that it had the ability to cause a thrill of excitement to surge through her if and when she allowed her mind to linger on it. All thoughts of contacting Reynolds at any point in the future were well and truly driven out of her mind by this new feature of interest.

It was not a long journey from the Louisiana to the Schuyler residence, and Madison stopped at the end of the driveway to clarify, "This is the one, right?"

"Right," Peggy agreed, unwinding her arm from James' and taking a step away from him. Yet she paused before disappearing into the house, hopping back to briefly peck Madison's cheek. She was thankful for the bright fairy lights decorating the outside of the house, as they washed her face with a white glow which obscured the blush she could feel rising to her cheeks at the bold action. It had the same effect on Madison, however, so she was oblivious to the impact she had on him as she concluded with a sweet smile, "Thanks for walking me home."

"Any time. Take care," James replied, smiling somehow in spite of the fact that Peggy Schuyler somehow seemed to leave him breathless after their every encounter as of late. He watched her walk the few metres away from him and up the steps to the front door, and was relieved to see her pause to wave at him before she entered the house.

Content, James Madison turned around and made his way back to his own home, still hearing Christmas songs drifting through the air, and still feeling the brush of Peggy's chapped lips against his windblown face.

* * *

 **A/N: What can I say, Peggy attracts people named James!**

 **Also, though Reynolds is not a nice guy, I think that Peggy would be so confident in her ability to handle herself that she becomes as willing to trust people as Eliza and as stubborn about it as Angelica, causing her to give him a chance when she really knows better. But don't worry, she's definitely not that keen on him - her mind is on... Someone else... named James... who she just kissed on the cheek...**


	17. December 17th

**A/N: Happy Friday! It's new chapter o'clock, so let's open door number 17!**

* * *

 **December 17**

It was another of those precious days where Alexander had arranged to spend his time at John's due to the fact that everyone else was busy working, while he was not. Often, those times with just the two of them present lead to cuddling on the sofa which they both ardently insisted was merely platonic, or playing scrabble (because Monopoly, though arguably the superior game, caused too many petty squabbles, which incidentally was a very high scoring word in their second choice of a game) or just playing video games together.

But when Hamilton called Laurens at five that morning, stifling a yawn as his best friend did exactly the same after having been roused from his heavy, almost impenetrable slumber, to warn him in advance that it was not to be so as he couldn't spare the time, it seemed that his day would _not_ be spent sharing his day with John in John's apartment.

Yet Laurens was no pushover, and as such he was not prone to relinquishing the plans he had been looking forward to with great anticipation without some kind of fight. Thus, though Alexander made it evident that he would not be torn from his own humble abode and the piles of paperwork he was determined to conquer, John resolved to ensure that regardless of a change in location, his opportunity for a day with Hamilton would not be lost due to the man's simple inability to take a break from whatever task occupied his time.

Hence his arrival at Alexander's flat at a far more reasonable time of day, eleven o'clock to be precise, dressed in his tortoise onesie, his hair loose for once and gathering in pretty ringlets which sat on his shoulders. When Alex opened the door to him, his face registered the unexpected guest with surprise, however he didn't protest when John entered his home uninvited and made himself at home in the familiar, small apartment. He made a beeline for the couch despite the fact that it was strewn messily with various documents, and flung himself down atop the many loose sheets, grinning widely as the homeowner groaned, realising his friend's intentions.

Closing his eyes and running a hand through his messily tied hair and causing several strands of hair to protrude at odd angles from his haphazard bun, Hamilton criticized, "You're ruining my system; I was _so_ well organized, and then _you_ stroll in here to spoil my work and -"

"- And I do it to save you from yourself," Laurens concluded with a proud nod. "That's right, it is I, the embodiment of your better judgment. And I'm telling you to give it a rest already: it's Christmas in literally eight days, and I know as well as you do that you aren't required to work this hard during the festive season. In fact, you're _never_ required to work this hard, you always just insist on pushing yourself to the limits." He was correct, and Alexander had yet to identify a strong enough argument to refute John's invasion of his work space, leaving him to pout pitifully at the man like a toddler being scolded. Forcefully biting back a laugh, Laurens reiterated, "You _have_ to stop."

Forever doomed to remain infantile, Alexander rebuked, "You _have_ to stop messing up my paperwork. Those are important documents relating to critical cases," he whined, and this time John couldn't refrain from laughing, a sound which simultaneously exuded humour and contradictory scepticism.

"Alex, we both know there was _nothing_ organized about the way these papers littered your couch, even _before_ I showed up." His smirk challenged his friend to contradict him, knowing full well that would be impossible.

Hamilton rolled his eyes. He dared to mutter under his breath, "There _definitely_ isn't, now you're lounging all over them," though he followed it immediately with a cough, successfully masking his quip. Still, he had the common sense to approach John and pull the papers from beneath him to pile them up safely before the man could wreak further havoc on the already disorganized collection. Feigning genuine irritation, Hamilton rhetorically asked, "Is this better for you, my dear Laurens?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, on the surface reflecting his reluctance to do anything at all which could be perceived as taking a step towards ending his work. Even so, lurking underneath was a hint of truthful, raw longing to be able to call John his dearest and to let Laurens know he actually meant it without incurring any consequences. He shook his head, dispelling melancholy thoughts of the man on his couch, and instead paid attention to his reply - he had begun to speak.

"Marginally better, my love," Laurens returned with a mischievous wink, not stuttering or tripping over the phrase as he dropped it in like it belonged there. "But you're on your feet when you should be sitting - no, scratch that - laying down." Again, he silenced Hamilton with the logical realisation, "You called me at five this morning, which means that you were either awake ridiculously early or you never even went to bed. Judging by the stink of stale coffee on you, I'm willing to bet it was the latter."

Alexander shrugged, suddenly seeming to take great interest in his old slippers, studying them rather than meeting John's hazel eyes for fear of confirming those accusations.

He should have realized that his attempted obfuscation betrayed him anyway - he was exceptionally poor at hiding his feelings, and guilt was not exception. John shook his head fondly, and reached out for Alexander's hand, still clenched around a pen, and dragged him onto the sofa with him before unfurling his fingers from the pen and throwing it down on the floor beside Alex's newly collected pile of documents.

One of Laurens' slender hands lingered atop Alexander's, however, and his other made it's way up to the nape of the shorter man's neck, where he gently pulled the hair band from his dark, wavy locks and ran his fingers through them absentmindedly, his fingernails scraping delightfully against Alex's scalp now and then. As if by magic, Alexander lost the will to resist John's intervention - he _was_ correct about the Washingtons' forgiving nature, specifically around holiday times, and Alex had technically began his Christmas break the previous day. The only reason he still found something to work on was that he had decided that a good project during his time off would be to arrange a new administrative system for the company, including everything from allocation of funding to the way the filing cabinets were organized - a task which proved to be harder than anticipated. It was by no means necessary, a fact which seemed to resonate within his heart as he melted into John's tender embrace, relishing the feeling of his hands in his hair and his firm chest pressed into his back.

Alexander allowed his eyes to droop closed without too much internal debate, and his breathing was just slowing down into a regular rhythm when he felt something shift behind him. After a moment, there was a draft hitting his back, and he sat bolt upright from where he had been laying peacefully on the brink of sleep to see that John had slipped away from him, vaulting effortlessly over the back of the sofa when he believed Alex to be asleep. Voice ringing with tired accusation, he rubbed his bleary eyes as he sulked, "Where are you going?"

John chuckled softly, and leaned on the back of the couch as he smoothed Alexander's hair and gently pushed him back down, explaining as he did so, "It's okay, I was just going to make us some hot chocolate."

"Don't want _chocolate_ ," Alexander grunted, feigning irritation despite the smirk he couldn't hide, making John wear a similar grin as he shook his head and made his way towards the small kitchen area of the little apartment. "I just want _you_ ," he added under his breath, barely a whisper leaving his lips.

While searching, John couldn't quite contain a giggle, which caused Alexander to leave the couch entirely, springing to his feet in surprise, with a stunned expression which only prompted more laughter from his temporary tenant. "Alexander, sit," John commanded, a peculiar pleasure running through his body as his best friend complied with his demand. He continued perusing the cupboards, only to come to the conclusion, "It's just as well you don't want hot chocolate, because you don't even have any." _What kind of self-depriving workaholic doesn't even have hot chocolate in his home as a basic necessity?_ John pondered, before realizing that the man he loved was _exactly_ the sort to deny himself the enjoyment of hot, sugary drinks. Glancing in the cupboard again, he noted, "You do, however, have ginger tea, I could make you some of that, or -"

"No _thank you,_ " Alexander emphatically replied, cutting John off.

"Well, you need _something_ to numb the effects of the ridiculous quantities of coffee I know you must have consumed over the past twelve hours, so I'm going out to buy some hot chocolate. Or an alternative sedative," John responded, striding purposefully towards the door, exhibiting body language thoroughly inappropriate for a grown man in a turtle onesie to display. _If there is one thing I am going to achieve today, it is to make that man sleep._

"Laurens! Stop right there." Alexander was on his feet again, holding himself like a general as he addressed his battalion - or in this case, the man whose heart he wished to conquer. "I do not want hot chocolate, I do not want tea, and I can promise you that I have ingested enough warm beverages over the past..." He checked his watch, before confirming, "the past eight hours to last an ordinary person a lifetime. For me, that is at least enough to keep me working, albeit in an exhausted sort of way, for another three hours at least. And yet by some miracle I felt an inexplicable desire to sleep when I was lying on the couch with you, so if you want me to sleep, if you really, _really_ want me to take a break, _you're_ going to need to stop rushing around too." Laurens frowned, opening the opportunity Alexander to smugly reveal, "What, you think I haven't noticed that you've been painting non stop over the past few weeks? You're not the _only_ one who's allowed to worry about your best friend's well-being." He winked, his stern mask breaking into a playful grin, and it took only a heartbeat for his best friend to mirror him.

Raising an eyebrow in a light hearted challenge, Laurens clarified, "You've been worrying about me?" His heart fluttered at the very notion, and he felt himself blush, causing a stark contrast between his rosy skin and brown freckles, as Alexander nodded and shrugged.

His voice was a low, bashful murmur as he reminded John, "What, it's not like _you_ haven't been worrying about _me_. So if _I_ have to rest, _you_ do too." _And not just because you're the only thing that makes the idea of laying down and just being content to exist sound even vaguely appealing._

"Okay." Laurens took a step away from the door. "So how are we going to deal with this predicament, Hamilton?" His grin widened, daring Hamilton to confess that he wanted John beside him, holding him and playing with his hair and sleeping at his side.

Alexander did not back down from that challenge. Taking a step closer to John, he reached his arms out towards him, and implored, "Take me to bed, John."

For a second, Laurens was frozen with the shock that Alexander had actually said it, and called him by his first name as he invited him into his bed. But when that brief second ended, John remembered that it was _Alexander,_ and that although he was admittedly his crush, he was also his best friend, and they always shared those sorts of overly friendly but completely comfortable moments with each other. He displayed no hesitation as he closed the distance between himself and the shorter man and swept him into his arms, stifling a groan as he carried Alexander to the bedroom bridal style, gazing intently into his deep, wide eyes as he seductively replied, "My pleasure, Alexander."

He set Alex gently in the unmade bed, then proceeded to crawl over him, settle behind him and drag the duvet over them both. He hated to admit it, but Alexander had been right when he mentioned how John was constantly painting: he had been woken by his crush's 5 a.m call, but he had only had an hour of sleep previously to that, too busy trying to complete his collection of Christmas gifts to retire to bed until the early hours of the morning. He had to confess to himself if no one else, it felt good to be laying in a bed again. Then again, with Alexander lying right there, he would have felt incredible under any circumstances.

Hamilton reached behind him to pull Laurens' arm over his shoulder and hold it there, demanding the attention he desired so desperately. He closed his eyes and smiled, and it wasn't long before he sensed sleep tugging at his senses and urging him to finally submit to the darkness.

He had one final phrase before he submitted to the thing he had worked so hard to evade for over a day, however:

"Thank you, John."

A satisfied sighed tickled the back of his neck, and Laurens replied, "Any time, my dearest Alexander."

* * *

 **A/N: Because it's totally just a platonic thing to share a bed with your crush. Yup.**

 **I just wanted this chapter to be a bit of a cute down day after the Reynolds drama! Because let's not forget this is meant to be sweet as well as dramatic.**

 **And I knowwwww you maybe wanted Peggy to kick Reynolds' bum, but he's our one real villain and we still have a few days left! So don't worry, there is time!**

 **On a very different note, I am sick with something that feels like flu, and it's not at all nice, so pleeeaaasssseeeee take care of yourselves and wear warm clothes if it's cold outside and turn up the heating if you need to and try to get a little extra fruit even if you think you're okay right now, it doesn't hurt to have a few more vitamins in your system during cold and flu season!**

 **Take care, love ya!**


	18. December 18th

**A/N: Guys I've been so excited for this chapter! Ahhhhhhh it crept up on me, but I'm so pleased this day is finally here!**

* * *

 **December 18**

It was a peaceful evening at the Schuyler household: Philip and Catherine had left for their trip to Switzerland already, leaving the three girls to their own devices, which meant that Peggy had bid them a cheerful goodbye before making her way to James Madison's apartment, allegedly to "pet his parrot" ("And that's code for what, exactly?" Eliza had teased, eyes shining with amusement while Angelica snickered, causing their little sister to blush and hurry out immediately).

That left Eliza, texting Maria and willing her to reply, and Angelica, fully engrossed in writing her latest article and aggressively ignoring her phone in spite of the fact that it continued to vibrate with various texts and calls from her boyfriend.

Eventually, after informing Maria via text that she was looking forward to seeing her at their party the following evening, Eliza glanced at her sister with a sympathetic smile. She gestured towards the buzzing thing and asked, "Is that John?"

"Probably. But I'm not going to check when I'm busy working," Angelica replied, convincingly passing it off as nothing of significance that she was blatantly pretending her supposed boyfriend didn't even exist.

"You know, he's not going to stop; he's persistent," Eliza commented, shrugging and setting aside her own mobile to give her sister's predicament her full, undivided attention.

Angelica didn't stop typing up her article as she answered, "I'll turn it off if it's disturbing you." She reached out to do just that, before Elizabeth's next remark prevented her from doing so:

"Sure, you can turn off your phone, but that won't make him go away." Finally, her sister made eye contact, showing a vulnerability rarely seen on the face of Angelica Schuyler. Eliza reached for her hand, and did her best to comfort the elder woman in precisely the way her sister had always done to herself and Peggy if either of them was upset. "What's happened with John, Angelica? You can tell me, I promise you I won't judge you."

"You won't judge _anybody_ \- that's how you've ended up so close to Maria Lewis, which by the way I _have_ noticed, and that's something _you_ haven't told _me_ about - but that's beside the point," she quickly amended when she saw Eliza's exasperation as she tried to turn the conversation around. _I'm meant to be setting a good example for my sisters, by finding a good person to be with and being happy with that._ And yet, despite her conviction, she allowed herself to listen to the part of her mind that _wasn't_ completely preoccupied with making sure her sisters saw her as some effortlessly wonderful role model. _Maybe the real example she needs to see is the one in which I'm brave enough to face it when something's wrong. And I_ know _I can trust her with whatever I say_. Giving in to the kindness in her younger sister's gaze, Angelica confessed, "Nothing's happened with John, and that's just the issue - there's nothing left of what used to make me enjoy our relationship! I don't enjoy being around him anymore, I see him and I feel nothing, he calls me and all I get is this urge to ignore him so that he doesn't get to irritate me." She grimaced, and tossed her head back with a groan as she insisted, "I _did_ really like him when we started dating, I swear."

"But now you don't," Eliza finished for her, sighing as she recognized the truth that she had suspected for a while. "You know Peggy and I never thought he was right for you anyway. You've got a brilliant mind, Angelica, and he's had you working in his family's department store like some accessory to his reputation rather than encouraging you to start using it! Have you even told him that you've started writing for a newspaper?"

Angelica shrugged, hesitant to admit, "I was afraid that might intimidate him and scare him off. Now I'm not even sure that would be a bad thing." She set aside her laptop, article forgotten, and squeezed Eliza's hand, searching for counselling from that wise, kind girl as she pleaded, "What do I do, Betsey?"

Her little sister-turned-confidante winced, and drew in a sharp breath through her gritted teeth. With an apologetic shake of her head, she told the elder woman, "I can't tell you what to do. But I _can_ tell you what I know: you're clearly unhappy with your current boyfriend, and though I doubt that your disenchantment with him was provoked by your newly formed and abundantly obvious crush on Thomas Jefferson, that _is_ another factor which you should consider. Regardless of how you choose to act, I think it's safe to say Thomas would happily be your shoulder to cry on if you decide to make a change." She chuckled as she added on, "I mean, that _is_ if you'd rather cry on him than on me, because I'm here and willing, too."

Angelica echoed her laugh as she retorted, "I don't think you've got a shoulder to spare, my dear Eliza - a certain Miss Lewis seems to have reserved a place in your arms, and I'd hate to intrude on that!" She winked at her sister, causing an incriminating blush to stain the face of the usually unswervingly demure girl. She grinned victoriously as she declared, "I _knew_ you liked her! So what's going on with you two - you're not together yet, so what are you going to do about it?"

"Angie, shut up!" Eliza moaned, burying her rosy face in a cushion until she felt the heat and the colour fade away. Forcing herself to regain her composure, she spoke intentionally slowly as she insisted, "Don't change the subject, Love. I know it must be difficult to talk about this, but what are _you_ going to do?"

The humour faded from Angelica's gaze, leaving a contemplative expression behind. A few seconds was all it took for her to make her choice. "You know, thinking about it, it's not that hard a decision to make at all. I'm going to give all of us a shot at being genuinely happy this Christmas."

With no further explanation, she stood and left the room, grabbing a jacket from the hooks in the hall, picking up her keys from the shelf and pulling on her boots before stepping into the street and continuing on her way, nothing but determination exuded in her every step.

* * *

She arrived at John Church's apartment half an hour later, having walked the entirety of the journey - after waiting for years to make the right choice about him, she felt that waiting around for a bus would just slow her down and waste precious time. The brisk, icy air invigorated her despite the fact that it also whipped her dark curls into a frizzy tangle, and flecks of light snow drifting through the air clung to her eyelashes, yet she had not felt so alive in years. There was not a single doubt in her mind when she knocked on John's door, only the mild pessimism lingering in the back of her mind that he would throw some kind of tantrum. Nevertheless, she had resolved to be direct no matter how he responded - too much time had already been lost.

He opened the door almost instantly, bursting out with the accusatory exclamation, "What the hell, Annie? I've been calling you non stop for the past hour, have you been ignoring me?" Evidently not keen on waiting for an explanation, he put a hand on her waist and tried to pull her towards him.

Without hesitation, Angelica extracted herself from his hand and stepped away from him, confirming, "Yes, actually, I was busy working. And, for the record," she frowned as she amended a pet hate which had gone unchallenged for far too long, "my name is not _Annie_ , I have _never_ liked that as a nickname. My name is Angelica Schuyler."

John seemed somewhat stunned by the dismissive way she responded, and he squinted, his confusion clear as he asked, "Why didn't you tell me sooner? And what do you mean you were _working_ , you work at my parents' department store, I memorized your shift pattern, you should have been -"

"Yes, I have finished my work at Church's for today. Actually, I've finished working there indefinitely; I handed in my notice on the way here, and considering the circumstances, I have been permitted to have immediate dismissal with full pay for this month. It turns out there's a _lot_ you don't know about me, John, including the fact that I've been writing for a newspaper for the past few months, I often find playing dress-up with the snobby clients your parents' store attracts mind-numbingly boring, and I have been deeply unhappy with this relationship for a really long time now. So I guess it's finally time for me to do what I always tell my sisters before they go on a date."

His already porcelain complexion became impossibly paler, and John Church adjusted his quiff in agitation as he tersely checked, "And what exactly is that?"

Angelica smiled at him, demonstrating perfect civility as she quoted herself, "If it's not going well, just walk away, because you can't build anything on weak foundations." She shrugged apologetically, pulled out her keys and prized one of them from her collection. Offering it to John, the newly single woman justified, "I won't be needing this anymore." He stared at the bronze key as if in shock until the girl actually reached for his hand and deposited it there. Somewhat sympathetically, Angelica apologised, "Sorry, John. I should have done this sooner." She began to walk away, pausing before she entered the elevator to honestly say, "I hope you have a good Christmas. I never meant to hurt you this close to it." _I was just hurting_ myself _too much, the longer I languished in this loveless relationship_.

As soon as she left the building, Angelica found she couldn't stop grinning, delirious from the joy of finally being free from the heavy burden she had been carrying for so long that she had become accustomed to the weight. Her body was fuelled with seemingly endless amounts of energy, her very bloodstream transformed into electricity, and her perpetually quick mind alight.

Returning home seemed to be too understated a way to celebrate her newly reclaimed freedom, and if she had learned one thing from dating Church, it was that he would not give up trying to contact her. Though she could ignore her phone and unplug the landline, her former boyfriend was not above pestering Eliza, and as sweet as she was, the girl was a pitiful liar, so she would not be able to deny that Angelica was there.

That ruled out the possibility of returning to her home.

She briefly toyed with the idea of joining whatever two person party Peggy and James Madison were having, before she realized three fundamental flaws with that plan: first, she didn't know Madison's address; second, she didn't know _Madison_ particularly well, and third, she wasn't _entirely_ sure Eliza's taunt about the two possibly doing something much less innocent than petting James' pet bird was completely unfounded.

She could have happily roamed the streets until dawn, enjoying every aspect of winter in New York City, including a sunrise she assumed would be breathtaking. But by the time she got around to considering that as a third option, the only thing she _actually_ wanted to do had already firmly fixed itself in her mind.

Which is why, fifteen minutes later, she found herself on an unfamiliar doorstep in a semi familiar neighbourhood, knocking at the door of Thomas Jefferson just moments before she remembered that it was late enough that he was most probably sleeping.

Yet as the owner of a nightclub, early bedtimes weren't exactly something he was used to, hence the fact that he made his way to the door hardly a minute after she knocked, wearily wiping sleep from his bleary eyes until recognition of his unexpected guest made him freeze. "Angelica?"

"Sorry if I woke you," she rapidly apologised, her satisfied grin transforming instantly into wide eyed anxiety as she faced the more nervewracking part of her night.

"You didn't, I just got in," Thomas assured her, still not comprehending what miraculous twist of fate had delivered the woman of his dreams to his doorstep in the middle of the night. Frowning and reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck with perplexity, he asked, "What... Happened?"

"Tell me first, are you tired at all?" She clarified, lingering concerns about intruding continuing to haunt her.

"Not any more."

"Okay then." She took a moment to breathe before she confessed with an electric, terrified, hopeful smile, "I've just broken up with my boyfriend of three years, and I was wondering if I could come in."

Jefferson's mouth dropped open in surprise, and he grinned before he realized what he was doing. He caught himself, and forced a neutral expression as he falsely sympathized, "I'm sorry."

His crush exhibited only brutal honesty as she shook her head to counter, "I'm not."

Relief clearly asserting dominance over his expression, Jefferson smiled again, freely this time, as he admitted, "That's good, because I was lying about being sorry just now. You're better off without him, Angel, trust me."

 _Angel? Now that's a nickname I like._ A sly, seductive smirk crept over Angelica's lips, prompting Jefferson to mirror her.

He visibly shifted personas from the almost concerned friend to the fully charming love interest, leaning lazily against the door frame and raising one eyebrow as he offered, "I'm here for whatever you need, babe. Would you like to talk about it?"

Angelica closed the distance between them, finally making her feelings for him crystal clear, wrapping her arms around the taller man's neck and bring her lips just millimetres from his as she whispered her reply, " _No_."

Jefferson closed his eyes, but he could still feel her smile against him when he kissed her for the first time.

The snow fell beside them, fairy lights twinkled around them like stars, and for the first time in a long long while, Angelica was fully satisfied.

* * *

 **A/N: HECK YES JEFFERGELICA I AM SO HAPPY AT THIS I'M SORRY YUP BYE**

 **Also to anyone called Annie, I do think it's a really nice name, I just made Angelica not like it because she needs a pet hate!**


	19. December 19th

**A/N: So after yesterday's Jeffergelica bombshell, what's a more accurate representation of my utter delight than the Xmas/Mullette/slightly-Jeffergelica party at the Schuyler household? Nowt! So let's see what they get up to!**

 **(Also something weird is happening with the reviews and although I can see that people have left them, I can only see the ones up to the 17th. It'll fix itself in time I guess but also the email alerts seem to be strange too, so the point is that I don't actually know if you're happy about the last chapter or not. I really hope you are! And I hope you enjoy this one too!)**

* * *

 **December 19**

"I'm just saying, who throws a party on a Monday? You have to admit, it's a little random," Thomas pointed out as he preened in the full length mirror in Angelica's bedroom. The new couple had made their way to the Schuyler household when Eliza and Peggy had still been in bed, and the youngest two of the brood were still oblivious to the unexpectedly sudden transformation in the eldest's love life.

From inside her en-suite, Angelica replied with the sharp sarcasm she was famed for yet which she wouldn't have dared to display towards her ex-boyfriend, "You think I would have chosen to do so if I'd had alternatives? I have a schedule and I know everyone else's: I know Eliza's colleagues always fake sickness in the week before Christmas and she gets asked to cover; I know Peggy and Alexander plan on volunteering to work overtime in the days just before Christmas because they've heard that the Washingtons give a bigger bonus to those they see in the office about now; I know Hercules will get swamped with new orders within a few days because everyone wants a new suit for their New Year's parties - trust me, I _know_ a Monday isn't exactly ideal, but that's just how it has to be when you try to throw a party for Christmas and to celebrate your two friends finally getting together in the busiest month of the year."

Jefferson chuckled at her fiercely defensive reply, and assured her, "Relax, Angel, I wasn't criticizing you. And by the way," he strolled closer to the door to the en-suite as he seductively mused, "I think I find it sexy that you know everything about everyone."

"Damn right it's sexy," she confirmed, smiling widely as she relished the praise from the man she cared about. She heard his footsteps approaching her door, and warned, "But if you think you're going to be _cute_ by bursting in here with some line about me looking as hot as my brain before I'm actually dressed, I definitely _won't_ be impressed."

"Yes, ma'am," Jefferson replied, stopping in his tracks and flinging himself backwards onto Angelica's bed instead - the culmination of weeks of longing for that woman more than he ever had done before had somehow resulted in her seemingly returning his affection, and he was not prepared to jeopardize that with some kind of idiotic prank - he could save being immature for the party, when Alexander arrived.

"I'm nearly ready, anyway," Angelica updated him, a hairpin held between her teeth as she fixed her hair in place, securing her freshly straightened hair into a smooth, sleek ponytail. She brushed down her outfit, an elegant satin dress in coral which clung to her form and went halfway to her knees, adorned with a small diamonte belt. Pleased with what she saw in the mirror, she opened the door, allowing Thomas to take in her outfit as she asked, "What do you think?"

"Gorgeous," Thomas confirmed without hesitation, pushing himself up from where he had settled on the bed. He was pleased to note that the hue of her dress complimented that of his blazer, and knowing her eye for fashion and colour, it was easy enough to imagine that it was intentional. Confidence raised even higher, he extended a hand towards her neck to play with the silver pendant hanging there, before rapidly reaching up to caress her cheek and taking the perfect opportunity to lay a slow, sweet kiss upon her lips. When the pulled away again, he seemed scarcely flustered (save for the excitement glowing in his eyes) as he remarked, "So, it sounds like your sisters are ready to get this party started." He nodded towards the floor as he indicated the music already playing - music which had masked the sound of some of the few guests arriving.

"I guess I shouldn't be late to the party I arranged," Angelica continued, easily matching his smug, seemingly unaffected by undeniably enamoured persona. She ran a manicured hand over his chest, smoothing Thomas' slightly purple jacket, the one she had selected for him, as she invited him to invite her, "So?"

Smirking, Thomas concluded, "So, I guess we should go downstairs and stun our friends." He kissed her again, more passionately this time, then offered her his arms as he asked, "Shall we?"

She ignored his arm and took his hand in hers, nodding her assent, before leading him down towards the lion's den, fully anticipating the hushed mutters of confusion or gasps of awe which greeted them as they descended the stairs side by side, hand in hand, effortlessly gliding into the large room in which their friends had gathered.

That room contained the youngest of the Schuyler sisters, however she had yet to allow the light atmosphere to soak into her and render her entirely carefree: it wasn't like her to be anxious in any way, however when her mind had lingered invariably on the sweet man who had walked her home a few nights ago in every waking hour since, she felt justified in being flustered at the prospect of seeing him again.

She had presumed that a friendly visit the previous night would dismiss her more-than-friendly thoughts of James Madison, that she would spend time with him and his parrot and remember that he was just another person, a nice guy, just not really exceptional. She had wished to return to the way she had viewed him before she began to see how gentle and kind he was, yet it quickly became clear that her attachment to him only grew with each encounter. So when she caught sight of him as he entered the room, she wasn't really taken by surprise when her heart dropped to her stomach and got caught up in the knot of nerves writhing there.

"James!" Peggy called out to the man as soon as he strolled into the room, glancing around and mopping his brow with a handkerchief, clearly seeking out someone in particular. She dared not assume it was her, yet she couldn't deny that it gave her a burst of happiness to see that Madison visibly stopped searching the instant he laid eyes on her. She darted through the huddle of people gathered in the centre of the room to make her way to his side, stopping a metre away from him to look him up and down before truthfully remarking, "You look very nice."

It was true - Madison looked surprisingly handsome in a yellow shirt and grey suit, which flattered his form far better than the usual bulky sweaters he hid in. He smiled, visibly bashful as he admitted, "Thanks, but you... You look beautiful, Peggy." Her simple yet elegant yellow chiffon dress held an understated, demure elegance, and the way her hair had been twisted to frame her round face was inescapably attractive, yet he scarcely noticed; the only part of her he referred to when he spoke was her eyes, the single feature which never changed. She _always_ looked incredible to him, and though he was generally far more shy than usual when he was somewhere he was unfamiliar with, an issue exacerbated when in the company of pretty women, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tell her the truth, for once, despite being on the home turf of an exceptionally attractive girl.

Peggy rolled her eyes, giggling at him and his flustered admission as she rhetorically asked, "Are you feeling quite alright, James?"

Madison hesitated to laugh, but when he caught sight of the playful glint in her gaze, he found he could no longer conceal his honest response. He chuckled at her humility, and assured her with renewed confidence, "I'm feeling good. It's great to be here." He paused, debating whether it was wise to use some Jeffersonian line he was likely too nervous to say correctly, or whether he should first focus on just enjoying the young girl's company. It didn't take him long to decide that the latter was definitely the better approach. Looking around and recalling that he'd heard the two youngest Schuyler sisters were responsible for the impressive festive decor, he commented, "This place looks wonderful."

Peggy beamed, an expression exuding so much delight that Madison was immediately relieved that he hadn't made some more forward statement. "Thank you, Eliza and I did all of the decorating. It took a long time, but -"

"It's worth it," Madison finished for her, taking a moment to fully appreciate the festive furnishings: there was a large Christmas tree in one corner of the room, adorned with yellow lights, golden baubles and red bows; the hearth was roaring in another corner, with a selection of Christmas ornaments on top and more green foliage decorated in the same way as the tree framing it, as well as placed above every door; assortments of golden and cream balloons were dotted around the room; luminous fairy lights cast a warm glow where the were wrapped around the banister of the stairs, and a red velvet bow was tied around every bar of the stair rail. In short, it was a perfect culmination of traditional warmth and modern elegance, and upon closer examination, James found that the soft glow of fairy lights and the plants around the room, not to mention the company he kept, put him very much at ease.

Peggy watched affectionately as he fully took in the room and admired her efforts. When his gaze returned to her, she replied fondly, "I'm glad you like it." James nodded, his temporary confidence replaced with silence again and leaving him with no option but to smile to convey how pleased he was the be there with her. Mirroring him, Peggy suggested, "Hey, do you want to get a drink?" Not waiting for a reply, she took Madison's hand and lead him towards the table where Eliza had laid out various alcoholic and non alcoholic beverages for guests to help themselves to, hoping that she might loosen him up further, to see the funny, sweet man she had grown familiar with during her conversations with James and visits to his parrot...

* * *

"Lizzie-Beth! Come dance with me," Laurens cheerfully demanded, approaching the young woman after downing another of the several shots he had taken that evening. After he, Lafayette, Mulligan and Angelica had challenged each other to see who could manage the most shots in a minute, the mood had quickly escalated. Only an hour in, the party was in full swing, with everyone dancing around the Schuylers' sitting room, Christmas songs blasting from the speakers and coaxing some more inebriated guests to sing along.

Predominantly, people were dancing in pairs: as predicted, Lafayette and Hercules were all over one another, while Angelica and Thomas were only marginally more reserved. Aaron Burr and his new girlfriend Theodosia Bartow had slipped in unnoticed and found their way straight into the centre of what had become the dance floor, spinning around and giggling together like teenagers without once losing contact with one another. Even Peggy had begun to dance with Madison, fuelling Elizabeth's ongoing suspicion that there was more going on there than met the eye. In fact, it was only herself and John who had yet to find a partner, because Alexander had been caught up at work, according to Peggy, and Maria was late too, though she had not informed anyone of the cause. Left out and slightly drunk, John made his way towards the teal-clad girl and began dancing with almost aggressive enthusiasm, holding her hands and raising them above their heads, swaying his hips from side to side and displaying his infectious grin, which somehow urged the reserved girl to join him in his silly dancing. Laughing as she was suddenly dipped close to the ground by the obviously tipsy man, she queried, "Dearest John, how much have you had to drink?"

"More than your tender mind needs to know, my lovely Eliza," John solemnly assured her with a guilty smirk and a contradicting mischievous wink. He had to shout to be heard over the music as he asked, "Now I have a question - is Angie with Jefferson now? Because he's just a completely terrible guy, I swear, he is literally the most awful person ever, she deserves so much better than that ass, he -"

"Makes her laugh?" She peered beyond John, causing him to look around and look closer at the new couple, who were indeed giggling at some private joke as they stood nose to nose, swaying in time to the music. Shrugging offhandedly, she admitted, "He's far from perfect, but maybe he's right for her? She likes him, at least, which is a definite improvement from her _last_ boyfriend."

John pouted, thoroughly bitter now that it was confirmed that the odious man had formed another tie to his friendship group, but he couldn't argue with Eliza's logic, at least not regarding _that_ matter.

Seeing his dissatisfaction, Eliza playfully suggested, "Hey, if you look around, you will see a room full of happy people, so what does it matter if some of them find that enjoyment with the less pleasant type?"

John _did_ look around, observing the dancing couples surrounding them. Turning back to Eliza, he answered with a playful glint in his eyes, "I see a room where everyone but you and I are dancing with someone they're either dating or _want_ to be dating. So how do you feel about having a wager on who has the steamiest make out session?"

In mock insult, Eliza gasped, "Wait, you _don't_ want to be dating me?"

John laughed wholeheartedly, all traces of bitterness from his most recent realization evaporating as he reminded the girl, "Sorry, sweetie, but you know I'm gay."

"Well, it's just as well I am too, or you'd be a real heartbreaker," Eliza giggled with a feigned reproachful pout, twirling around to bring herself closer to John so that she might lower her voice to ask, "Anyway, who's your money on?"

Laurens' eyes lit up as the idea struck him, and he instantly decided, "I'll put ten dollars on Alexander and I."

Eliza laughed, and though his possible folly would line her own pockets, she felt compelled to remind John, "Alexander isn't even _here_ yet, everyone else has a head start." He shrugged, obstinate as he stood by his choice, so she placed her own bet, "Okay, I'll put a ten on Mullette - they've been together for the longest, and this party is in their honour, after all!"

"My money's on you and Maria, if and when she arrives," Angelica warned, catching the gist of the conversation as she and Thomas passed the two friends on their way to sit down. She raised an eyebrow, cheekily daring her sister to pretend that it could never happen. As expected, Eliza only blushed and looked away from her sister's penetrating gaze.

"Nice one," John shrugged as he pondered the idea of the two women together. "Yeah, I could see that - much more easily than I could see you getting together with that southern motherfu-"

"J-Laur, you are _so_ bad at subtlety," a familiar southern voice drawled in his ear as Jefferson leaned towards the freckled man. "Way to let me know you hate me. Just for that, I'm going to cut in on this action, and put twenty dollars on Angie and I."

Laurens scowled venomously at the man, certain only that Alexander hated him and that he was right to do so. "No one calls me that, Jefferson. And you can't bet on yourself, genius," John countered, adding before Thomas could argue, " _I'm_ taking the bets, so _I'm_ making the rules. I'll put you down for Madison and Peggy, or would you rather Aaron and Theo?" _James is too shy to actually try anything, and Aaron knows we won't let him forget it if he goes too far with Theodosia,_ he decided, grinning smugly as he relished the prospect of causing the man to lose money.

"Burr," Thomas nodded with a strange degree of certainty, "He was my second choice anyway, he's besotted with the girl." A wicked smirk curved his lips into a crescent moon as he informed the younger man, "And just so you know, Laf calls you J-Laur all the time."

The freckled man began to roll up his sleeves, and because both of the watching Schuyler sisters, as well as everyone else in the room, were well aware that Laurens did not mess around when he wanted to throw his fist into someone's face, Angelica ushered her man away as rapidly as possible. "John," Eliza murmured, gently tugging John's hand and bringing his attention to the door before his dispute with Thomas erupted. He was just in time to see Alexander enter and head directly towards himself and Eliza.

Shaking his head and dropping Eliza's hands as well as any tension from his conversation with Jefferson, Laurens remarked, "You finally made it, then?"

"Hey, don't criticize me, I'm fashionably late. Everyone knows it's hot to have an important job you can't get away from," Alexander countered, grinning at John in spite of both his and Elizabeth's obvious scepticism as he was reunited with the man for the first time since falling asleep in his arms a day ago. He stared into Laurens' eyes for a moment as if trying to discern if his friend was going to bring that up. He saw otherwise. Remembering Eliza, he turned briefly to inform her, "Maria just got here, she wanted a moment to check her makeup or something, but you'll have company any minute." She nodded in gratitude, and disappeared, leaving him and John together. He seamlessly joined in with the other dancing guests, easily maintaining conversation while he danced with the young artist, "So, what were you guys talking about?"

John blushed, but he was too drunk to consider lying before he confessed, "We were betting who is most likely to have the hottest make out session tonight, and I put ten dollars on us." He realized as soon as the words left his lips that it was definitely a ridiculously forward confession, and he quickly assured the other man, "I was only joking, obviously that's never going to happen, I only said it to make Eliza laugh." _Yeah, that and the fact that I am a strong believer in wishful thinking bringing about genuine change_.

Alexander smirked, and shook his head, tutting as he mischievously critiqued, "That's a real shame, Laurens. Not the part where you bet on us, because if you hadn't just told me that's an impossibility I would have been tempted to do the same, but the bit where you don't believe I'd make out with you." He leaned in close, stopping mere centimetres away from John. His chocolate eyes were devoid of joviality, burning with an intensity Alexander only displayed when he was passionately pursuing a goal of his, and for a moment John thought he might be proven wrong then and there. Indeed, Hamilton considered pushing his lips into Laurens', _only_ _to prove a point_ , he told himself despite the fact that his pounding heart indicated something entirely different. But then a trace of uncharacteristic reticence tainted his motivation, and he chose the alternative of whispering conspiratorially, "If I get enough booze down my throat, I'll make out with just about anyone." His usual arrogance returning, he winked, and returned to his usual volume as he offered, "Dance with me?"

Laurens forced a laugh through his dry throat, and joined in, relieved to have some excuse to leave behind the topic of Alexander kissing him - no matter how much he wanted it, that would remain an intangible fantasy, for that night at least.

* * *

Elizabeth located Maria in the dimly lit hallway, though even the low glow provided by the Christmas lights strung between the walls in a zigzag was sufficient to illuminate the consternation on the younger woman's face. Her ruby lips were slightly downturned, and her eyes darted from side to side as though she was afraid someone might jump out on her. Seeing the woman she had recently befriended standing at the other end of the hallway eased her nerves to an extent, and she managed a smile, however when Eliza hurried to her and enveloped her in a tight, comforting, cinnamon scented embrace, the tension left Maria's body, and for reasons she couldn't explain she giggled as she greeted, "Hey, what's that for?"

"I'm pleased to see you?" Eliza offered as an explanation, still not letting go as she admitted, "I was afraid you wouldn't come, I _know_ you're not particularly close with most of my friends and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't feel up to this after..." She caught herself, stopping her babbling torrent of words before she mentioned that uncomfortable situation she and Maria had encountered. Pulling away and shrugging, she finished tactfully, "I suppose you must have a lot on your mind. I'm relieved you made it despite all of that."

Maria nodded slowly, glancing away as she agreed, "There were reasons not to show, I guess." She reached out for Eliza and tucked a stray strand of dark brunette hair behind her ear as she added, "I'm glad I did come, though - you're stunning, I couldn't have missed this." For once, she didn't chastise herself internally for the display of fondness.

"Good," Eliza replied, her expression radiating her jubilation as she confessed, "If you had, I may have had to spend my night being a gooseberry to John and Alexander while they tried to seduce one another without being overly obvious."

"And seeing as I _have_ shown up, how do you intend to spend your night now?" Maria asked, a hint of breathy suggestion seeping into her sultry voice, meeting Eliza's eyes between cliche flutters of her long lashes.

Eliza blushed, but her voice was steady enough that it left no doubt about how serious she was when she responded, "Well, now I get to try my hand at the art of seduction myself." _If she seems at all uncomfortable at that idea, I can just tell Maria I wasn't referring to seducing her,_ she rationalized, her calm contingency plan being the only thing to give her the confidence to actually make the subtly flirtatious comment.

But it didn't come to that: Maria hadn't been quite sure what to expect, but it wasn't a thinly veiled chat up line. Her eyes widened, and she giggled again as she assured, "Trust me, you don't have to _try_ to be seductive - you're already an expert." _Did I truly just say something so cringe worthy?_ Maria scolded herself internally, quickly reverting to the internalized scepticism she so regularly felt, though this time it was because she was not sure whether to be awestruck or just humiliated that she had so little control over the words she usually tightly regulated. The only thing she could tell for sure was that Elizabeth's honest, endearing gaze was to blame for her lack of command over her own tongue.

The Schuyler sister remained blissfully unaware of the her friend's internal struggle. "Trust you?" Eliza took Maria by the hand and pulled her down the hallway towards the living room turned dance floor, stopping the girl as she made her way towards the other guests and guiding her to the stairs instead, "No, let's keep talking," she urged, taking a seat there. She waited for Maria to settle beside her before continuing, "I think I already _do_ trust you." Maria's mouth formed a small circle of surprised pleasure, and Eliza chuckled indulgently as she admitted, "Then again, Peggy and Angelica always tell me I trust too easily, so make of that what you will, I -"

" _You_ might trust easily, but _I_ don't," Maria interrupted. She hesitated, uncertain what she could tell the young woman in front of her, but she came to that conclusion aloud, confessing, "Somehow, I trust _you_. I know we hadn't even spoken properly until, what, two weeks ago? But now you're suddenly my best friend, and I've never had that before, and maybe I'm just telling you this because it's nearly Christmas and I'm feeling mushy and sentimental, so you probably shouldn't get used to me being so open with my emotions, but I just feel like you deserve to know how much you're changing me."

She waited in silence for Eliza to respond, hoping desperately all the while that the seconds stretched out that her bold admission hadn't spooked the kindest person she knew.

When Eliza closed the limited distance between them and planted a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips, Maria knew her fears were unnecessary. She also became confident that Eliza wouldn't complain when she returned immediately to her mouth to kiss her more passionately, pulling the woman closer as she melded their lips together, tasting the candy cane flavour of Eliza's gloss and pouring her stifled affection for her into that heated exchange. She was proven correct when Eliza melted into Maria, leaning against her and closing her eyes as she allowed herself to return the kiss of the entrancing woman with matching vigour.

The only reason they broke apart was because an overjoyed shriek of celebration came from somewhere in the main room: the two girls had all but forgotten that the only thing separating them from their friends were the Christmas light-clad rails of the banister, but Angelica clearly hadn't, as she was staring directly at the bashful women as she declared, "Okay, that's settled, anyone who made a bet with Laurens owes me money, because I believe my sister just secured my windfall!"

Eliza shrugged apologetically to the stunned girl she had just kissed, about to explain before Thomas interrupted, speaking above the music but directing his words to his lover as he argued, "Au contraire, Angel. Burr, if you could take a second to look at something _other_ than Theodosia, I think you'd end up doing yourself and I a favour."

All attention was mercifully removed from Eliza and Maria and concentrated onto Aaron and Theodosia as Burr complied in spite of his confusion. He turned around, then looked at the floor, and then finally to the ceiling. It was then that he saw it. Jefferson laughed loudly, but both Aaron and Theodosia were entirely deaf to that as they realized the implications of the piece of mistletoe dangling above them, and instantly acted accordingly, going above and beyond the call of festive duty and in doing so making Thomas victorious.

And that was how Thomas Jefferson supposedly (because as the night wore on, all thoughts of actually paying up disappeared, along with inhibitions and an ability to recall the events with much clarity) won a bet which Laurens had forced upon him, at a party to celebrate the relationship between one of their mutual friends and a man who made a conscious and deliberate effort to avoid any familiarity with Jefferson, during which much flirting, not to mention a few controversial kisses, occurred.


	20. December 20th

**A/N: Heyyyyyyyyyyy what's up, guys? It's nearly Christmas, but first we have some more chapters. Today, it's the aftermath of the party, and Burr has to face the ever-intolerable guys as they tease him about his big old steamy kiss with our lovely Theodosia!**

 **Also, just a wee bit of French for ya:**

 **Mes pauvres, chers, aux imbéciles, que vais-je faire de vous? = My poor, dear fools, what shall I do with you?**

* * *

 **December 20**

The heaters were turned up to full power, and they absolutely blasted the four young men lounging over the couches closest to the fireplace in which they were situated in Fraunces' Tavern. Yet no amount of electrically generated heat could make any difference to the incomparable warmth burning behind Aaron Burr's cheeks, due to the fact that his sometimes-friends were launching an unreserved assault of teasing remarks. He had lost count of the times the phrase, _"Talk less, kiss more,"_ had been muttered accompanied by four sly smirks relishing his discomfort every time he passed by them.

They were ordering an abnormally large number of drinks just to ensure he was close enough to hear them, of that he was certain. And unfortunately for him, Lafayette had just placed a new order.

Aaron exchanged a despairing glance with his co-worker, silently attempting to incite pity for his lamentable situation in the valiant hope that Madison might volunteer to enter the lion's den in his place. But James was evidently more than happy to stand back and watch with a mildly entertained smile he had the decency to half-conceal as his colleague was left with no choice but to return to the four young men tossing teasing remarks in his direction.

"You know, he's always told us to talk less, but only now do I realise it was because he thinks _actions_ speak louder than words," Laurens mused, loud enough that it was clearly intended for more ears than just those of his closest friends.

Burr closed his eyes as he approached the group, desperate to block them out in any way he could. He grinned around gritted teeth as he requested with palpable exasperation, "Please, just... Stop talking."

Mulligan's face radiated good-natured humour as he recalled, "Theodosia stopped talking for a while last night. I guess it had something to do with the man on her mouth."

"And in it," Laf chirped, before wrinkling his nose in something like disgust as he explained, "Mon amour and I were right next to you, and that is just _nasty_ to see. You are the worst, Burr." He recoiled, wrapping his lanky limbs around Hercules and shuddering as Aaron rolled his eyes and set his drink down heavily on the table.

Alexander guffawed, clearly with some other remark poised to leap from his acid tongue, but Aaron interrupted before he had a chance to say a word. "I find it _truly_ heart warming that you are all so invested in my love life, but I would thank you all for shutting up."

"Burr," came an urgent call from James, still behind the counter.

"Just a minute, Mad," Burr responded, not turning from from the group. "I know you all relish the idea of tormenting me, but I don't see anything to be embarrassed about with Theodosia; she is a smart, interesting, beautiful woman, and you won't make me feel ashamed for showing that," he insisted, meeting the gaze of each of the men in turn and refusing to move on to the next until he was absolutely certain they had understood the depth of his feelings.

Alexander closed his mouth. He opened it again a moment later, this time slightly more subdued and genuine as he justified their taunts, "Honestly, I'm glad you took my advice with her, and you can thank me for imparting my wisdom any time. I like chocolate and money, if you need ideas on how," He suggested playfully, eyes shimmering with mischief. Burr raised a brow, and Alexander swiftly retracted the idea, "Then again, maybe not. Anyway, we're mostly just enjoying seeing you like this." Aaron's scepticism shifted to confusion, prompting Alex to elaborate, It's unusual to see you so open with your emotions. But really, good for you."

Aaron's expression softened, all of the taunting temporarily forgotten. For once, Hamilton had a point, and when Aaron took a moment to really appreciate what he had stumbled upon, he found that he, too, could find no reason not to smile. He had an uncharacteristically youthful look about him as he reflected, "She is good for me. She - I don't know why I'm telling you rabble - but she makes me feel safe, and warm, and just -"

"Complete," the soft, low voice of the customer Madison had tried to bring Aaron's attention to finished for him. Aaron whirled around instantly, caught by surprise, and elicited a giggle from Theodosia. Though her rich, dark eyes glowed, luminous with emotion which seemed too bright to be anything less than celestial, her words were heavy with the weight of her sincerity as she affirmed, "I feel the same, Aaron."

Aaron couldn't force words to his lips, for his heart had swelled too much with unbridled affection for the woman to allow them to pass. He knew the boys who adored tormenting him for any display of something other than indifference were watching with great scrutiny, and following their reaction to the proceedings of the previous night, he had come to expect that. Yet peering eyes were no deterrent. For once in his life, Aaron wasn't afraid of what people thought, or of what they might use against him; he would gladly suffer as a result of people knowing about his intense attachment to Theo, and he refused to restrain himself from showing her just how deeply he cared for her.

He was vaguely aware of juvenile shouts of encouragement darting around the edges of his attention, however he preferred to focus entirely on Theodosia. He crossed the wooden floor of the Tavern, his steps exuding an urgency to be closer to her, and took her face between his palms, making eye contact to ensure she didn't mind before he kissed her with all the passion they had shared the night before and none of the tipsy clumsiness.

All five of Aaron's friends began to hoot and holler in apparent celebration, and when the couple finally pulled apart, both Aaron and Theo were as delightfully coy as one another. Their lips bore matching vibrant pink lipstick, but strangely enough there was not a soul willing to inform Burr of that detail. It fell to Theodosia to quiet the immature men, with the stern command of, "Behave, won't you?" Her words were critical, but her easy expression clearly illustrated how she did not hold a grudge against the collective enthusiasm of the raucous men. Her natural authority was more effective than any of Burr's previous protests had been, so she did not have to impersonate irritation for very long at all. Her words were at once playful again as she informed them, "Unfortunately, I can't hang around for long, so I'd appreciate the opportunity to spend a little while with my man _without_ a herd of hollering hyenas."

"And this is the thanks we get for setting you up with our boy Burr?" Laurens retorted, though he, too, was enveloped in the teasing, electrical atmosphere of the cafe, and there was no sting to his words whatsoever.

"No," Theodosia insisted, approaching the closest couch, upon which Laurens and Alexander sat. "This is," she informed them tartly, leaning over the back of the couch, wrapping an arm around the necks of the two boys who had convinced her to allow Aaron to call her and pulling them to her, kissing both of them on the cheek in turn and marking them with the same incriminating shade of lipstick she and her lover wore. With a contented expression which spoke volumes and not a single word more to the group, she took seat at the bar, opposite where her boyfriend had returned to, and they began to chat in a way that seemed almost too intimate for two people who hadn't even known each other for a month, a way that would have seemed out of place and perhaps even scandalous in any café that wasn't frequented by the likes of Hercules Mulligan and Gilbert du Motier, who were presently knotted together on the couch in a way that made the interactions between Aaron and Theo appear to be the most innocent in the world.

Turning away from the couple with a large sigh, Alexander remarked, "Doesn't other people's happiness just make you feel sick?"

"I hate it," John confirmed, not missing a beat, to the immense horror of the men opposite them.

"Mon Dieu!" Lafayette exclaimed, ripping himself out of Hercules' arms to lean forward, squinting as he scrutinized the pair. "You _are_ joking, oui?"

The two men exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. When they returned to debating the issue with Lafayette, it was with identical views. Laurens began to justify, "It's not that we want our friends to be lonely -"

"- And we _do_ know you two are ridiculously happy together," Alexander agreed.

"- And it seems those two are, too." John nodded towards the couple at the bar as he spoke.

"But it just seems like everyone around us is getting together: you two, Angelica and that creature she seems to like, Theo and Burr..." Alexander trailed off, allowing Laurens to continue.

"I mean, you know things are bad when the most reserved person you know is somehow starting a relationship." Alexander laughed at that, and nodded in consensus.

Ever the observant master of perception, Hercules noted smugly, "It sounds like the two of you are just jealous that you haven't found that special someone yet."

After a moment to wonder at that statement, Alexander begrudgingly confessed, "I suppose that _might_ be a _small_ factor. But that's not definite, I could just be an inherently bitter pessimist, we don't know anything at this early stage of investigation." _Except I do know for a fact that I wouldn't be made so irritable by the idea of other people being in relationships if I just had my own with Laurens._ Attempting feebly to recover from his admission, Hamilton quickly brought the convention back to lamenting his solitude. "Even Peggy and Eliza are flirting with their various love interests. I've lost everyone but Laurens."

John took that as a prompt to lean into Alexander and hold the short man close, setting his chin on Alexander's head as he insisted, "It's okay, I will never leave you, even if these traitors will." Little did Alexander realize the extent to which Laurens was dedicated to his promise. He assumed it was platonic and friendly, rather than a binding agreement his best friend intended to honour, but time would reveal it to be the latter.

Lafayette found he could tolerate it no longer. Muttering under his breath in French, he complained too quietly for either of the men in denial to translate, "Mes pauvres, chers, aux imbéciles, que vais-je faire de vous?" He groaned, growing in volume as he pointed out, "You are both missing the very obvious solution to this predicament."

Laf allowed a second for the pair to come to the answer themselves, but evidently neither wanted to share the thought that was on their minds every hour of every day. Hercules finished the suggestion his boyfriend had started, "You have each other. You _know_ you do, so there's nothing stopping you from getting together."

In the same moment that Alexander grew increasingly redder, John blanched, his face losing saturation and causing his freckles to stand out starkly like paint splatters on a blank canvas. Alexander would have mumbled some refusal, not so emphatically that it convinced John he would never consider the prospect of dating him, but insistently enough that it put an end to Lafayette and Mulligan's matchmaking. But he didn't get a chance to do so before Laurens stood, a slight tremor in his hands and voice alike as he argued, "Don't be ridiculous. Alexander is my best friend." _He could never see me like that, much as the truth hurts_ , he added internally. Because he did not refute the idea out of repulsion, but out of terror that if he didn't first pretend to be indifferent to his best friend, the man might soon reject him entirely, and that was an idea which scared all of the colour out of John's face.

The trio around him looked to him with varying levels of confusion. Except, he soon recognized that it was not actually _confusion_ , but _sadness_ in his Alex's eyes, a sorrow which, though he couldn't allow himself to hope to understand, he couldn't bear to see. Fixing his hazel eyes on the floor instead, he muttered, "I've got to go."

Laurens walked away, leaving a chill caused by more than the draught of the opening door or the sudden absence of a pair of arms around Alexander. For a brief moment, he looked to his friends, however he was utterly lost (a and visibly so), something known for inciting pity. So, rather than endure their unintentionally patronizing sympathy and prying questions into why he was so hurt, Alexander elected to take a leaf from the book of the man who was presently using the more Hamiltonian approach of baring his heart to secure the adoration of his girlfriend:

He forced a smile, and though the words felt like thorns wrapping and constricting around his heart, he told them, "Laurens is right. What's wrong with you guys?" He forced a chuckle, and attempted to settle back into the comfortable atmosphere which had existed in the café before the conversation flew from the right track like a train in a bitterly icy winter, but it sounded undeniably hollow.

Mercifully, Lafayette and Hercules humoured him - after all, they were well aware of Alexander's crush, and if his way to soften the blow of rejection was to feign impartiality, they would help him to the best of their abilities. Even so, the atmosphere didn't return to the formerly easy, relaxed one they had enjoyed, and it was not long before Hamilton made his excuses and left the couple alone to share their lack of comprehension.

Equally bewildered as one another, Hercules asked Lafayette, "What happened with them? They've been getting on so well, and I know they like each other, I thought they were ready to hear that."

The Frenchman shrugged, helpless just like his lover as he confirmed, "They _should_ have been ready to hear that. I don't know what went wrong, Mon Amour." He leaned his forehead against Mulligan's chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart by means of keeping his disappointment at bay: be had been made so happy by finally having his dreams of the tailor made into a reality, and now he had been granted anything he could ever wish for in his own life, his last remaining desire was to spread that joy into the lives of his friends, too.

As Hercules affectionately petted at his main, Lafayette groaned, and when it faded from his throat, his boyfriend was filled with renewed determination to keep his love from being so discontented. It was this motivation to preserve Gilbert's precious happiness that leant Hercules such sturdy conviction as he made his next declaration.

"We'll fix this. They'll be together in no time, just you wait."


	21. December 21st

**A/N: Hello oh wow I'm so late with this! I literally closed my eyes for one minute and then I woke up and it's morning time and this chapter remains un-uploaded! :s sorry! But hey, we got a bit of drama to come!**

* * *

 **December 21**

Of course Lafayette and Mulligan truly intended to stitch the fracture they had inadvertently created between their friends at some point, and in doing so bring them into the relationship they would both benefit from but were presently too frightened of rejection to enter into.

But as of yet, they had no idea how to make that happen.

Thus none of the four from the previous day returned to the café that Wednesday, yet the slight reduction of customers was no bad thing in the eyes of James Madison, since the tavern was crammed just like it always was first thing in the morning. What made matters even worse was that it was twenty minutes into the opening shift, and Burr had yet to arrive.

On the twenty third minute, that changed, and he raced through the door with a flurry of wispy snowflakes darting in behind him, dancing through the air as playfully as pixies. His own expression reflected the childlike wonder which always accompanied snow, and he greeted his colleague with genuine enthusiasm and warmth as opposed to the usual polite interest he often showed.

Aaron shrugged off his maroon coat, grabbed his apron and started taking orders from the first customer in the line, rapidly fixing his drink and sending him off with a, "Happy Holidays, sir!"

Madison threw a knowing sidelong glance to his co-worker, and asked under his breath, "Did you see Theodosia this morning?"

Burr nodded, passing his current drink to another customer and offering her the same cheerful goodbye before replying, "Yep. Do you know how incredible it is to wake up beside the woman you adore?"

Madison laughed, and took a new order before reminding his friend with a gently teasing smirk, "You've only know her for five minutes!"

"And I fully intend to spend the rest of my life getting to know her even better," Aaron informed him. It was unspeakably rare for the man to be so blatant when sharing anything about himself, and anyone less understanding than Madison would have found it easy to taunt Burr over his infatuation with his new girlfriend. It was plain to see how taken aback the smaller man was. Burr only smiled wider, completely sincere when he told him, "We're going to visit her parents on Christmas day. I know it's really soon, and it might come across as overly confident, but I see no reason not to make plans for the future when you already know you have someone you never want to let go, regardless of how much time passes."

At that, James nodded thoughtfully, satisfied with that justification.

* * *

It was around noon when Elizabeth Schuyler entered the café, looking decidedly nervous as she approached the counter to order her drink. She was fidgeting, tucking the same strand of silky hair behind her ear repeatedly though it never once moved from that spot with one hand and alternating between tapping her fingertips on the wooden surface and drumming her fingernails upon it with the other. She was quiet, more so than usual, and seemed relieved to have something to hold and keep her hands from fumbling when Madison handed her the drink.

She made her way to a seat, not the usual pair of sofas but a small table where two chairs faced one another, and began to watch the door, evidently waiting for company.

Her worried demeanour suddenly made sense when Maria Lewis entered the café; the women hadn't laid eyes on one another since the party, so the kiss they had shared on the staircase had slipped by without being addressed. It was not something they could let lay, however - both Maria and Eliza were keen to know any implications it might have, hoping for the best but frightened by the legitimate concern that their moment of passion could have clipped the wings of their new friendship before it had truly been given the opportunity to soar.

Maria didn't bother ordering her own drink. Her priority was Eliza, hence the way she made her way directly to the young woman waiting for her and placed herself in the free seat. She smiled, but there was a pervading feeling of anxiety reflected in the crease of her brow and trembling voice as she feigned unconvincing nonchalance to ask, "Hey, what's up?"

Even worse at concealing her inner turmoil than her companion, Elizabeth spoke softly as she admitted, "I wanted to see you... I wanted to talk." Maria nodded, her own words reluctant to form on her lips, so Eliza continued bashfully, "I suppose you can guess what's on my mind."

"I haven't stopped thinking about it myself," Maria replied, only realizing a heartbeat after she had spoken (during which Eliza's rich dark eyes had opened wide with surprise) that the statement could be interpreted in a variety of ways, and though it was absolutely true, if Eliza had called her there to explain that it was a mistake, then the way in which Maria had meant it would definitely be inappropriate. She cringed at her outburst, resolving not to speak again until the Schuyler woman made her standpoint clear.

Eliza blinked slowly, regarding her friend with palpable curiosity as she mused, "I wonder, is that a good thing?"

 _She doesn't seem blatantly angry_ , Maria assured herself, which was reason enough for her to assemble her courage sufficiently to inform her with a coquettish pout, "I think so. It's a nice memory." She hesitated, unsure whether or not she would be able to recover the conversation if the remark poised on the tip of her tongue backfired _This may be my best chance to be honest with her, and I owe it to myself to be completely truthful,_ she decided. Her ruby lips quirking upwards, she confessed, "You're a good kisser, 'Liza."

In spite of her nerves, Eliza found herself giggling at that, and though her fears still continued to linger in the back of her mind, she felt her tense stomach gradually begin to unwind from the knot of concern it had been forming ever since their kiss. Relaxing slightly, Elizabeth replied with a genuine smile and unintentionally rosy cheeks, "You really think so?"

Maria nodded, her own smile growing - as of yet, things were going as well as could be hoped for. A teasing note touching her words, she challenged, "Don't tell me you haven't heard that before! You _must_ have!"

Eliza's face grew steadily redder, and as it did, her voice gradually became even quieter as she spoke, too afraid of rebuttal to manage her regular volume as she admitted, "I _might_ have heard it, once or twice. But it's special coming from you." In spite of her clear nerves, she summoned the bravery to meet Maria's warm caramel gaze with her own obsidian pools, reflecting in perfect clarity not just how fragile her confidence was when it came to actually sharing her deepest emotions with the young woman, but also how absolutely helpless she was around Maria.

Comprehension hitting her like a bus, Maria exclaimed, "Eliza, do you -"

"I like you, Maria, yes, I do." She closed her eyes and shrugged, shaking her head and smiling with the relief of admitting her feelings despite of her visible worries about potential repercussions. She paused for a moment, ready to flee the café at once if her friend screamed obscenities at her reveal. But she didn't, so ever so tentatively, Eliza opened her eyes to see an utterly astounded Maria Lewis staring slack-jawed at her. _I'm not surprised she's confused,_ Eliza decided, knowing that she would be too if her friend sprung news like that upon her. Partially to assist in Maria's understanding of the situation and partially because she relished the sweet, New taste of the words in her mouth, she reiterated, slower this time rather than a rapid, hurried torrent of words, "Maria Lewis, I _do_ like you - very much."

The silence expanding endlessly like Antarctic plains only exacerbated the frantic beating of Maria's heart as it drummed against her ribcage, forming an orchestra of sorts when combined with the whirring of her mind, so loud she was almost convinced that Eliza would be able to hear it. Evidently not, however, because her expression remained frozen, suspended somewhere amidst expectant, excited and terrified. It was only when she remembered that the other woman was presumably anticipating some kind of response that she urged her mouth to move, putting the girl out of her misery and sharing her own clumsy confession: "I like you too."

The reaction was immediate and beautiful. Tension evaporated seamlessly from Eliza's expression, leaving behind a radiant, glowing grin of absolutely dazed delight. She reached for Maria's hands, trying to say something before her emotions took hold and made that impossible. She found she could do nothing but giggle in giddy relief, but that was no problem for Maria, who took the opportunity while it - or rather, she - faced her, and leaned over the coffee table to kiss Eliza, immediately reawakening the rational part of her mind with a shock of burning energy.

Brought back to the reality that, _Yes, Maria just told me she likes me and now her mouth is on mine and there's not a single part of me that wants to say no_ , Elizabeth immediately melted into the relatively new sensation of those supple, ruby lips kissing her with all of the desperate affection she felt resonating within her own fluttering heart.

It was neither inconspicuous nor unnoticed, but the girls were blissfully ignorant to the muffled gasps of surprise from behind the counter as well as from other clients of the Tavern. (Though thankfully there was no indication of outrage, as Fraunces' was known for being unexpectedly liberal despite it's owner's narrow minded views.)

The two women fell into a clumsy but sincere embrace, holding each other with sheer palpable relief emanating from their thankful smiles. It was a few heartbeats before they pulled apart, and almost as soon as they did, Eliza was reluctantly forced to admit, "Much as I'd love to stay, I have to get back to work - we're doing a children's Christmas carol session this afternoon."

"Of course you are," Maria remarked fondly, her admiration for Eliza growing with every new detail she learned about her. "Don't worry, I should go back to work soon too," she remembered.

"Okay. Well, take care," Eliza instructed with a sweet smile. She passed her half-full mug towards Maria, and rose from her seat, pausing to chastely peck at the woman's blushing cheek before leaving in a graceful hurry. Her feet seemed not to touch the ground, the elation in her heart lifting her body and soul to incredible heights: brief as it had been, their meeting had definitely been conclusive, and regardless of labels or questions, for now it seemed she knew everything she required.

As for Maria Lewis, left alone to bathe in the bliss of what had just happened, she allowed a few precious minutes of peace to lull her into complete complacency: her closest friend openly returned her romantic feelings, and it now seemed they were something of an item, leaving her with nothing at all to be in the least bit concerned about in the future.

But all too soon, her peaceful reverie was rudely interrupted by something from her past.

"Maria! You're the last person I'd expect to find here grinning like an idiot," a hard, abrasive voice which made her skin crawl as if alive with writhing parasites directly addressed her, announcing the unprecedented arrival of James Reynolds.

Maria was not the only one horrified to see him - James Madison was still hard at work behind the counter, yet he had forgotten all other priorities the instant the loathsome drunkard entered. They had only actually encountered each other once before, but it was a more than sufficient period of time for Madison to form a decidedly negative opinion of Reynolds. Recalling how he had been forced to literally bundle the man into the street upon that last meeting, he watched with keen interest as Reynolds approached Maria, straining his ears for any sign of aggression about to unfold.

Her jubilation came shattering down around her, and Maria shrank back as she stammered without a trace of the positive nerves she had held during her previous conversation with her new possibly-girlfriend, "James! What are you... _Why_ are you following me?"

Reynolds chuckled at that, a low, taunting sound meant to intimidate rather than reflect genuine amusement. " _Following_ you? Please, I have better ways to spend my time. As it happens, I'm here waiting for a date."

"Well I hope for _her_ sake she changes her mind," Maria snarled, her fury evoked by the very idea that her emotionally and physically abusive former boyfriend might be on the brink of snatching another naive young girl in his sharp talons. She stood, abandoning the half-finished drink she had adopted from Eliza and shouldering her way past James.

It took enormous courage for her to walk away from him, especially when she knew from experience how much damage he was capable of inflicting when he was incensed. But she had been given a new lease of strength, comforted and safe in the belief that she had someone who genuinely cared about her as well as a newly adopted group of friends, including the barista watching with an increasing sense of dread, who would not allow James to harm her again.

When she walked away, she told herself that she would never allow James Reynolds to be her problem again.

What she did not anticipate, however, was that scarcely a minute after she left the café, the younger sister of her new girlfriend entered the café, grinned with genuine affection at Madison, but then made her way directly to the revolting man who had terrorized her for years.

James Madison didn't see Peggy's frown, nor hear her stern words; he was deaf to James' pleas, and his promises to leave the young woman alone once and for all of she granted him just one evening of her company; be didn't hear how reluctant Peggy was to agree, and he _certainly_ didn't see the internal workings of her mind, in which she told herself it was best to simply deal with Reynolds in whatever way she could in order to remove him from her life to instead allow Madison to become the one man she had to think about on a regular basis - because although Reynolds had forced his way into her subconscious awareness, it was primarily because he continued to pester her via texts and calls, and truthfully she would much rather spend her wasted time speaking to the _other_ James.

In his rare state of ignorance, James Madison was powerless to do anything but watch in abject horror as the young woman he had grown strangely fond of over the course of the past few weeks left the establishment arm in arm with the man he knew brought nothing but chaos...


	22. December 22nd

**A/N: Hey guys! School ended on Wednesday so I'm freeeeeee ish. I still have lots of festive things to get done, though! Anyway, this chapter is pretty dramatic...**

 **TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter includes some domestic abuse. Please don't read if this is likely to bring about a negative reaction, I will summarize the contents of this at the start of tomorrow for anyone who chooses to skip it.**

 **Again, if you or someone you know is struggling with domestic violence, I urge you to seek help. It is never the victim's fault, and there are organizations in existence to help.**

 **(Isn't this _such_ a festive topic? Sorry about that.)**

* * *

 **December 22**

For reasons he refused to share with anyone else, James Madison found himself incapable of grabbing on to sleep and keeping it firmly within his grasp. It was a decidedly unsettled night as he tossed relentlessly in his bed, mulling over time after time what Peggy had been doing with Reynolds:

She had been taken in by his charms to an extent on the night they visited the Louisiana, and he had been aware that she hoped to see him again. But Reynolds had called it a date, and judging by Maria's reaction to that news, the barista would have been willing to place good money on the proposition that the man was not anything like the smooth talking gentlemen Peggy hoped him to be.

He was scheduled to have a day off, but being alone was not an attractive prospect when he would be left with his parrot and his own pessimistic thoughts for company. Thus, though he didn't have to, he trudged into work and donned his apron without a word of justification to his colleague.

His sober expression confirmed that Madison was well aware that he was not scheduled to work but determined to do so regardless, and that was all Aaron really needed to know about the situation.

However, even placid, generally unshakable Aaron Burr was surprised when later that morning, the elder two Schuyler sisters, accompanied by their respective partners, entered the café, and the notoriously quiet James Madison immediately made his way to their table to take their orders.

Had he not been otherwise distracted, James would have appreciated the humour that could be found in the stifling tension between the snobbish Thomas Jefferson and the frankly offended young woman whose hand interlocked with Eliza's. Their juxtaposing temperaments would undoubtedly guarantee future difficulties around the Schuyler family dinner table upon those torturous occasions all three of the Schuyler women loved to complain about during which they were made to attend a formal dinner with their parents and boyfriends or girlfriends. But for the time being, there was only one Schuyler James could spare a thought for.

He was less than casual as he slipped into conversation, "Is Peggy going to be joining you?"

The sisters exchanged a glance, and as if deciding in an unspoken conversation which part of the single mind would take on which role, Elizabeth checked her watch while Angelica explained, "Actually, she told us she'd join us, however it seems she's late."

Thomas leaned over to whisper something in Angelica's ear, casting a sly glance towards his best friend as he did so. The woman's face seemed to become suddenly illuminated, and a mischievous smirk took hold of her lips as she archly enquired, "Why do you ask, Mr Madison? Couldn't be that you have - I don't know - _feelings_ for my littlest sister?"

 _Yes. But that's not why I'm so concerned_. He forcibly swallowed his pride, along with any wish to keep Peggy's protective siblings in the dark as to the potentially perilous situation in which she found herself. "I'm curious because the last time I saw her, she was leaving here with James Reynolds."

Maria instinctively huddled further into Eliza, her involuntary shudder reduced slightly due to being so close to her lover but persisting nonetheless. Jefferson frowned, in an effort to remember why that name stirred some kind of negative memory within him, and Angelica recalled with scepticism, "Reynolds? The guy who dragged her to the Louisiana? She _did_ say she was going to meet up with him again when I interrupted their rendezvous, but she hasn't mentioned it since, so I assumed she'd dropped it."

"Clearly not, from what I saw," Madison replied with a downtrodden sigh. _Though to be honest, I thought so too. But then, maybe that was just my own delusional hope_. There was no time to dwell on his regrets, because Eliza was murmuring something to her sister:

"Angelica, have you seen her today? Because _I_ haven't, and if she's with that man..." She winced, remembering in uncomfortable clarity how she had literally had to haul him off of her girlfriend. Voice becoming even more urgent, she insisted, "He's bad news, Angie."

The elder woman's brows knitted together, concern increasing as she pressed, "What do you mean by that?"

"He -"

"I used to date him," Maria saved Eliza the struggle of recounting what she knew of the situation by placing herself under the piercing gaze of her lover's elder sister. Sheepish, she confessed, "He's charming enough, but Liza's right - she saw for herself how he can turn violent, particularly when he's had a lot to drink. Plainly and simply, he's a ruthless thug, and the instant he fools you into believing otherwise, he shows you that." A few pieces of the indecipherable puzzle fell into place in her mind, and a realisation struck her, _If Madison saw them here, then Peggy must have been the "date" he mentioned_. Eyes narrowing in disgust, she noted, "I saw him here after Eliza left, I suppose it was just before he met Peggy. He was sober then, at least."

"But in case you've forgotten, it's been a whole day since then, and that could easily have changed," Thomas contradicted her, his voice words condescending and critical in an attempt to be empathetic with Angelica's struggle. In reality, his astute observation only worsened the collective Schuylers' fears.

"Yes, I know that, but at least I'm trying to contribute something that might actually _reassure_ my girlfriend rather than terrify her, unlike _someone_ I could mention," Maria snapped with equal distaste in her words.

"Please, stop bickering, neither of you are helping anyone!" Eliza protested, the emotions ignited within her causing her words to tremble at much as her hands, which were currently squeezing Maria's tightly enough to cut off her blood circulation. Before she lost her composure, she turned to James to clarify as calmly as she could manage, "So you were the last one of us to see her, yes? And that was here, just after Maria and I left."

"Yes," Madison confirmed, with a curt nod which barely conveyed a fraction of the nerves which nibbled at his heart.

Within the time it took for this exchange to occur, Angelica had already dialled the familiar number of her headstrong younger sister, only to discover with visible nerves, "She didn't pick up."

Eliza's black eyes held nightmarish shadows within them, and her words were flooded with feeling as she breathed, "Angie..."

"We'll find her, Betsey, we will," Angelica assured, touching the sister she could see before her on the shoulder and meeting her frightened gaze with her own matching expression of concern. The difference between the first and second born Schuyler sisters was that the demeanour of the elder was laced with ferocious determination to locate her youngest sibling, presumably to prize her yet again from the grasp of James Reynolds. "Let's assume she's still with him; where _is_ that, precisely?" Her enquiry was directed towards Maria, yet the younger woman could only shrug apologetically - James had moved since she left him, and she had no clue as to where.

Eager to redeem himself in the eyes of his girlfriend, Thomas interjected, "We take down the personal details of those we have to remove from the club and keep a record. I must have his new address somewhere." Without prompting, he dragged his phone from his pocket, opened a document and perused the screen before proudly offering it to Angelica, "There."

The woman took the device and nodded once, before pulling her jacket on again and standing, ready to hunt down the man supposedly with her absent little sister. Eliza began to follow suit, until Angelica turn to her to gently implore, "I know you're just as worried as I am, and that you've dealt with him previously, but you should go home and wait for us." The usually calm woman opened her mouth to argue against the ruling, but Angelica was too fierce to contradict as she silenced her, "I will not allow _both_ of my little sisters to be around this violent lunatic. I will go, and you will wait." She closed her eyes, unable to face the sadness her outburst had brought into Elizabeth's expression, and uttered, "I couldn't stand it if either of you got hurt. Please, don't put yourself at risk."

"She's right, Liza," Maria concurred, stroking her girlfriend's forearm in sympathy. "Angelica can handle herself, and so can Peggy, you know that. They'll be back safe, don't worry."

Reluctantly, Eliza slumped back in clear resignation. "Very well. But even if _I_ don't join you, you can't confront him on your own." She felt a chill run down her spine as the aggressive way Reynolds had seized Maria flashed behind her open eyes.

Thomas was on the brink of volunteering his services, however James Madison spoke first, "I'll come. I can leave here right now, I'm not even meant to be working today."

Angelica hesitated momentarily, but she was in no position to debate internally about the best companion to join her on this venture when the venture itself was a matter of drastic urgency. "Fine, you'll do," she decided, and began to stride out of the café, deaf to Thomas as he insisted he would go too and ignorant of Madison's rapid steps as he struggled to catch up with her.

* * *

Peggy opened her eyes and instantly regretted it. The sharp shard of light piercing through the gap in the curtains stung her eyes and ignited a searing pain in her heavy head. She groaned and blinked a few times, clearing her bleary vision until she could pick out something other than the absence of near-darkness. It wasn't easy, as the drawn curtains painted everything in varying shades of grey, but she could discern the difference between a wall and a small television opposite her. Gradually, she became more aware of her surroundings - her blouse had slipped and allowed a draught to stroke her shoulder. An ache was present in her ankle which hadn't been there the previous day, and her high heels were dangling perilously from the tips of her toes. Her face was pressed against the coarse fabric of an unfamiliar couch.

Flashes of the previous night darted through her mind: Dancing, laughing, drinking - _of course there was drinking. And now I'm on a stranger's sofa. Well_ this _is new._

A face, James Reynolds', grinning, then later something else, something she couldn't quite identify from the disorienting memory in her semi aware state.

She was tempted to close her eyes and sleep off the fog clinging to her mind regardless of how that might come across to the homeowner when he eventually discovered her, but as she was about to do just that, she heard a muffled banging which caused her head to throb.

After thirty seconds, it was obvious that whatever it was did not have any intentions of stopping until it was acknowledged. Though her weary body seemed to loathe her for doing it, she pushed herself up from the sofa, swallowed the predictable surge of nausea that shot through her, and kicked off her shoes before trudging lazily towards the source of the noise.

It emerged to be the knocking of the door. Peggy didn't think twice about opening it, much to the relief of the two standing on the other side. Voice hoarse from the assault of alcohol on her throat the previous night, she couldn't even pretend to be enthusiastic as she greeted, "Angelica... James... Hey."

"Is he here? When I see him I swear -" Angelica's tirade died a sudden death on her lips as she properly looked at her little sister's bedraggled state. She had seen her drunk and hungover and sick before, and usually it fell to Angelica to nurse her sister back to health whenever she was the victim of any ailment. On this occasion, however, the woman looked worse somehow than she ever had before. All traces of burning rage were dampened by a cool splash of reality, and there was nothing but concern in her words as she tentatively enquired, "God, Peggy, are you alright?" She reached towards the younger woman, but retracted her hands before they could touch her, too unnerved by the fragile appearance of the woman to risk accidentally causing her to break like the brittle china she resembled.

"What? Yes, Angie, I'm... Everything's fine," she replied, rubbing her temple in an attempt to physically stimulate her sluggish mind so as to process the question and provide a coherent reply. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but _why_ are you here?" _Both of you, actually - Angelica I might have seen as a possibility, but James Madison?_

"We knew you were with Reynolds," Madison began to explain, his gaze not meeting hers but darting about and perusing the gloom beyond her in search of the ominous figure. "He's dangerous, and we didn't realize just how much so until today."

Madison wasn't known for being particularly overdramatic, in fact if anything it was the opposite; even so, his brow was creased deeply like chiselled carvings in a statue, and the genuine nature of his fear couldn't be doubted.

Even so, Peggy was dubious, her wits beginning to return to her as she queried, "Dangerous how, exactly? He didn't seem it last night - I mean, I admit that he's been texting me a lot to ask about meeting up, which I guess was really annoying actually, but once I agreed to meet he said he'd leave me alone if I kept him company for that one time, so we just ended up having a chat and then going out to a club."

Angelica couldn't meet her sister's naive eyes as she confessed the chilling truth. "Eliza and Maria seem to think otherwise. He used to hit her, Peggy." Her words were thick with emotion as she imagined her own baby sister being subjected to the company of the despicable man. She couldn't help but shudder, and though she endeavoured to continue to spell out the bitter reality in explicit detail to the younger woman, her marble mask had cracked, and she found it impossible.

Stepping forward, James proceeded on her behalf to share, "Maria told us that when they were dating, he regularly got drunk and abused her. Naturally, she was terrified of him, and I don't doubt she still _is_ considering the fact that he even went to her home after they broke up. Apparently, Elizabeth had to haul him off of her before he struck her, or worse."

A fleeting burst of clarity from the night before pierced through the memory-obscuring mist in Peggy's mind. Her ankle throbbed at the vivid flashback, and she gasped as she recalled:

 _The conversation had been innocent enough - Peggy was too giddy with the effects of the booze she had consumed for it to be anything but childishly silly - they were back at James' flat, and she had been offered the couch to sleep on._

 _That had made her feel safe._

 _Until, with no warning, Reynolds lunged towards her, his hands suddenly restraining her as his inebriated mouth clumsily sought hers. She struggled in his grip, pushed him away. He swore, and redoubled his efforts. Her own drunken stupor receded momentarily, and she threw a well-aimed kick to his shin while simultaneously thrusting her clenched fist into his throat._

 _He staggered away then, swearing profusely and holding a hand to his neck where her ring-covered fist had left their mark. Before fully retreating, however, he shoved her backwards, sending a searing shock of pain through her ankle and a cry of agony from her lips as she lost her balance and collapsed onto the couch. He walked away, and she heard the slams of a few doors, growing fainter each time as he withdrew to his bedroom._

 _There she remained for a few moments, fully intending to leave the instant she regained her breath. But her twisted ankle urged her to stay put, and as swiftly as it had arrived, the rush of adrenaline which had kept her drunkenness at bay had faded like a streetlight at sunrise, and she was overwhelmed with the urge to sleep._

 _And sleep she did, precisely where she sat, slumping to the side and staying there til many hours later, after which the unpleasant recollection had all but vanished._

Peggy's gaze darkened with the fear her sudden realizations instilled within her, and without any warning, she overpowered by the unpleasant sensation that she was falling.

"Peggy," Madison's arms were the first pair to support her when her shaking legs gave out, mirroring the mental illusion. His low, soft mumble was more reassuring than she had ever guessed it might be as he muttered, "It's okay, you're safe. But you need to leave."

She nodded, conveying her compliance with body language because words failed her. She managed to stammer, "Yes. Okay, just let me fetch my things."

Angelica smiled tersely and moved to follow her sister, but a backwards glance from the other woman persuaded her to stop. It seemed to quietly insist, _I am capable of grabbing a few items. I know you're worried, but you're here now, and I'm leaving soon, but I just need to do this - I might have been childish to go along with Reynolds' weird demands, but I'm leaving here as an independent woman._

Peggy retreated into the gloom once more, returning from whence she came. James and Angelica were left alone for thirty seconds before Madison suggested, "Do you think we should call the police? She was limping, did you see? If we could persuade Maria to make a statement too, I'm sure they'd put him away for at least long enough that he'll forget about them both."

The woman sighed, begrudgingly admitting, "Peggy will hate to have to admit that she, a lawyer in training, was deceived by a vindictive criminal, but I think you're right. If it keeps her safe, it's worthwhile."

"Definitely," James concurred, not tearing his gaze away from the spot where Peggy had disappeared.

A short silence.

"You care about her, don't you?"

The question caught Madison off guard, and his face darkened with an incriminating blush before he could even attempt to defend himself. He tried valiantly to present some smart reply slick enough to corroborate his relative indifference to the girl, but quickly gave up, defeated by Angelica's raised eyebrow and sceptical smirk just as so many men before him had been. He groaned, and clarified, "I guess you wouldn't believe me if I said no?"

"Quite right."

"But will you harm me if I say yes?" He asked, genuinely curious as to the lengths the eldest and most ruthless Schuyler sister would go to in order to shield her comrades from anyone she deemed unworthy; Angelica's wrath was the sort of thing upon which legend is built, and ever since he'd known her it had been something he'd been desperate to avoid. He had even warned his best friend about the perils he would face should he incur the terrible thing by breaking her heart, and it was only _now_ that he thought to consider that _he_ might be made to suffer for simply exhibiting a touch of affection towards her little sister.

Angelica chuckled at the very idea, lifting part of the burden from Madison's mind. "Of course not - when most people you come across are attracted to your sisters, it's surprisingly refreshing to meet someone who _isn't_ interested solely in their appearance." Madison breathed a palpable sigh of relief, prompting an expression of absolute sincerity to emerge upon Angelica's features as she reiterated, "You seem to be a decent guy, Madison, and both Thomas and Alexander have told me the same thing. As long as you don't hurt her, we won't have any -"

A shriek from inside the apartment sliced through the tranquil atmosphere, leaving behind joint terror for the woman inside. "Call the police," Madison urged, and barged into the hallway before the woman had the opportunity to do so in his place.

He found the source of the scream easily enough: Reynolds had grabbed Peggy by the wrists and was pulling her towards him despite her furious squirming to escape him. As soon as he clapped eyes upon them, Madison hounded towards them, all traces of his usual reservation forgotten like an unfamiliar dream, focused solely on liberating the girl from the vindictive criminal's clutches.

Peggy evidently did not want to wait for his assistance before making her escape, however, as she headbutted the taller man squarely in the jaw and slipped her fully functional leg behind his knee to kick forwards, the combined force of his feet being pulled from under him and his head being thrust backwards flooring Reynolds and causing him to loosen his grip. She hurled herself straight into Madison's arms, and allowed him to drag her from the flat before slamming the door firmly behind them.

Breathless, she panted into his neck, "James, what do we -"

"Angelica's calling the police right now," he informed her, nodding towards the elder woman just as she turned around from where she had wandered a few metres away during her anxious pacing.

She muttered a last inaudible phrase into her mobile, then strode towards her sister, not hesitating this time to envelope her in a deeply adoring embrace - the tears streaking down the younger girl's face took priority over any potential unseen injuries, so Angelica nursed the emotional wounds before the physical ones. The usually verbose woman found she could do nothing but murmur variants of the same phrase into her sister's hair time and time again, "You're safe, I'm here, the police are coming."

The six minutes it took for the familiar blaring of police sirens to emerge passed quickly, with the two sisters not moving from their position wrapped around one another. Yet as soon as the piercing wail signalling the arrival of the authorities fractured the relative silence, Angelica stepped away, jerking her chin towards Madison to replace her while she returned to the street, "I'd better make sure they know exactly where to come to."

True to her word, she guided the police to the apartment, and even followed them inside to ensure the fiend did not slip free. Once he had been captured, she pursued them to the waiting car, too paranoid to trust the authorities to follow the correct procedure without her watchful gaze keeping them in line.

Alone with Madison, Peggy felt no qualms about confessing her internalized blame for the whole affair. Groaning softly, she remarked bluntly, "You must think I'm an absolute idiot."

"No." He didn't pause to think about his response. It just slipped from his mouth, the plain and simple truth contradicting her own irritation at her own behaviour which she now deemed foolish.

She chuckled bitterly, and despite the lack of real humour lurking behind it, James was still relieved to see a return of her smile. Shaking her head, she argued without any genuine aggression, "Stop being nice. I _am_ stupid - I mean, what kind of fool decides it's a good idea to meet up with a guy you have been warned away from? I mean, he harassed me constantly with text messages and I _still_ didn't see anything was wrong with him! I wasn't even attracted to him, I swear, and yet I still -"

"Hey." Madison had the uncanny ability to silence her with a single syllable. He took a breath before continuing, "He seemed nice and charming, and because you're a good person, you saw the best in him. You never asked for him to turn out to be a criminal, and under most circumstances, nothing all that bad would have come from having a drink with a stranger. It just so happened that, on this occasion, you picked the wrong guy to trust. That doesn't make you an idiot, it just makes _him_ a bad person." James's dark eyes shone with sincerity, and the young woman felt her resolve to concentrate all blame for the unfortunate situation onto herself cave in.

Even so, she muttered under her breath, "It still leaves me being too trusting, like Eliza, and too stubborn, like Angelica; not only could I not bring myself to turn down another meeting with him, but I also refused to admit that there was something off about him. The very worst combination," she lamented, sorrowful as she came to the realization that having a mixture of the most predominant traits of her elder sisters left her emotionally exposed. _I thought I was so smart, and yet -_

James interrupted her dark train of thought, taking hold of her face between his palms, squishing her cheeks slightly. He left her with no choice but to meet his soulful gaze as he reiterated, "You _have_ to stop blaming yourself - you did nothing wrong. You are _not_ stupid, you are courageous and honest and optimistic and intelligent and beautiful, and a negative experience with one man should not convince you otherwise."

Peggy noted something glimmering within his dilated pupils, something illuminated by the conviction with which he spoke. Unsure of herself, but this time due to something other than Reynolds, she mumbled, "James, what do you -"

"Margarita Schuyler, you are absolutely perfect," he cut her off with the swift statement. His heart swelled in his chest as he told her as much, and had she been a fraction less stunned then his seemingly unprecedented words had rendered her, the very same thing would have happened within her own chest.

As it was, though, she only smiled. _Now really isn't the time to tell her the full extent of how I feel - she has enough on her mind._ Instead of overwhelming her with further confessions, Madison decided instead that being a friend should be his priority in that moment.

James drew closer, and Peggy closed her eyes as he pressed a cool kiss from chapped lips to her forehead.


	23. December 23rd

**A/N: I was sleeping but as it happens I miraculously woke up!**

 **To summarize yesterday, James Madison was not at all happy about Peggy going off with James Reynolds, so when her sisters and their dates entered the café, he voiced his concerns. Sharing his fears once Maria confesses how bad Reynolds was to her, Angelica and Madison go to find her at Reynolds' flat. Peggy is hungover but vaguely remembers Reynolds getting violent, so agrees to leave with James and Angelica, but Reynolds goes for her as she's leaving. She fights him off and Madison takes her away, while Angelica calls the police and ensures Reynolds is arrested. Peggy blames herself, before Madison assures her that she is perfect and did nothing wrong, then kisses her forehead.**

 **Now we hear how Reynolds gets his comeuppance, and how John and Alexander are told to take action with one another.**

* * *

 **December 23**

John was still dozing in the tranquil slumber which had somehow evaded him for the past two nights, having finally given in to his exhaustion long enough to recharge and rejuvenate, when a phone call roused him.

He forced open sleepy eyes to peer through the dim light of his cosily decorated bedroom to glance at the lit screen:

 _Alexander._

 _As in, the guy I like who must now be convinced that I'm an absolute creep since Herc and Laf humiliated me in front of him._

Laurens let it ring and rolled over, pulling his thick duvet tightly around him, swathing his entire body in the hefty quilts and trying to ignore the persistent ringing.

It seemed to continue for ten minutes without interruption, gradually wearing through the shield of ignorance the artist had attempted to don. Giving in with an exasperated moan, John picked up his cell and answered the call, feigning indifference as he greeted, "Hamilton. What's up?"

"Alexandre? Non, c'est moi," the Frenchman on the other end of the line quickly corrected him. John held the phone away from his ear momentarily to see that it was indeed Lafayette rather that Alexander who had called on this occasion. By the time he returned to paying attention to his friend, Lafayette was halfway through a sentence, "- And now the girls are with her for moral support. Herc and I wanted to go too, but Angelica was worried about crowding her." Laurens didn't respond, leaving Lafayette to press, "John? Are you still there?"

"Yes. Yeah, I'm just... sorry, I missed that."

"Peggy went out with Maria's ex and he tried to attack her. Angie and Eliza are taking care of her," the Frenchman reduced the speed of his words to explain what had happened as concisely as possible for the benefit of his drowsy friend.

A twist of pity struck John's gut, and he murmured empathetically, "That's awful. Is there anything we can do?"

Lafayette hummed as he considered it. "Alexander was calling you just a minute ago, he seemed to have a plan of some kind that he wanted to rope you in for," he mused, before recalling, "He couldn't get hold of you." Laurens didn't reply, too guilty at having missed an opportunity to help Peggy due to his reluctance to speak to Alex. Eventually, Lafayette asked with an uncharacteristically sombre tone to his voice, "Are you avoiding him?"

The absence of words rushing to either confess or deny the allegation spoke volumes. There was no shortage of words twisting hurricane-like through Laurens' brain, however: _What can I say to that? Yes, I'm avoiding my best friend on the off chance that he mentions the fact that I literally ran away the moment our friends teased us about being a couple? That if he did happen to bring it up I would insist that I meant no offense by it and he would stubbornly refuse to believe me until I confessed how I really feel? That I might inadvertently hurt him by being overly cold to compensate for my behaviour last time we saw one another?_

"John? John, mon petit tortue, you've not said a word. Hercules and I are coming to meet you right now."

That finally evoked the beginnings of a verbal reaction, an opening to a fervid protest, "No, Laf, you really don't need to do that, I don't _want_ to talk -"

"- but you _need_ to, regardless. _Someone_ needs to talk some sense into you, John Laurens, after all you're incapable of doing so yourself!"

* * *

John was not the only one wallowing in regrets that day. Peggy Schuyler has made herself very comfortable in Angelica's bed, her sisters on either side of her and forcibly holding her there, ensuring she remained tucked safely beneath the silky coral sheets watching her favourite Christmas movie yet again rather than going about her day to day life. She insisted that she was fine, and her perpetually durable nerves and sturdy spirit were almost sufficient to convince her elder siblings of the truth in that statement - emotionally, at least; they knew there was still an ache whenever she put any pressure on her ankle, however, and though it was thankfully not long lasting damage, they were determined to make absolutely certain that the stubborn young woman didn't jeopardize her condition by staggering about when she realistically ought to have been resting.

Not to mention that, despite Peggy's vehement opposition to the mere notion, both Eliza and Angelica possessed a lingering fear that the shock of the previous day's events would suddenly strike with a vengeance and return their precious sister to the sobbing catastrophe she had been prior to Reynolds' arrest the previous day. Following the arrest, however, she had mustered the strength to stop wasting perfectly good energy on useless tears, and recovered her composure in time to give her statement to the police, without anyone there to hold her hand in accordance with her own wishes. She hadn't seen Madison since telling him she wanted to give her statement on her own, but even _that_ couldn't make her regret her effort to pick herself up from the mess and fix her own wounded pride independently.

Maria had been called to the station early that morning to give her own account of her former boyfriend's behaviour, and it was from just outside the station that she texted her new girlfriend.

Eliza glanced to her buzzing mobile and temporarily forgot about her little sister's ordeal when she saw her lover's name light the screen like it lit a flame inside her heart. She read the message, still smiling with placid bliss as she noted the barrage of kisses peppering the message from the woman she had once thought was too guarded to ever show even a trace of affection. She had never been more delighted to be proven wrong. Her voice was mild as she fed back, "Maria has just finished her interview with the police. Is it alright if she comes over?" _Best to ask permission before bringing my girlfriend here during Peggy's plight_ , she reminded herself in spite of the radiant wish to be reunited with the gorgeous woman.

"Yes," Peggy had no hesitation whatsoever about permitting a guest, particularly one her sister was blatantly enamoured with. The elder Schuyler women logically assumed it was because she was curious to see if the other woman had been told anything new about the situation. In actual fact, it was more predominantly her desire to distract at least _one_ of her sisters' attention from giving her the undivided care they were piling onto her.

Oblivious to the ulterior motive, Eliza grinned widely and began to type back a rapid response to Maria. Within a few minutes, there was a ring of the doorbell, and the middle sister leapt from the bed and raced down the stairs as gracefully as she could manage while hurdling the rolls of wrapping paper resting against the banister to welcome in Miss Lewis. She flung the door open, ready to pull her into an enthusiastic embrace as she greeted, "Maria! Oh my goodness, how did things go? I'm _so_ sorry I wasn't there -"

"I didn't _want_ you to be there, Liza," she gently reminded, leaning into the comforting arms of her girlfriend: there were still times she preferred her own company, as she had learned to rely on herself during twenty-one years of loneliness, however when she was ready to return to being around others, she was unspeakably thankful for Eliza's welcome. "It was absolutely fine. There's a lot to tell, though, and I guess there's a lot Peggy should know."

Elizabeth nodded, and took the other girl's hand to lead her back to Angelica's bedroom. Both of them settled on the foot of the bed, blocking Peggy's view of the British Rom-com she adored above all other Christmas films and commanding her attention. Eliza reached for her hand and told her, "Maria has something to say."

Peggy turned her attentive gaze to the newcomer, intrigued by the thoughtful look on her face, and paid close attention as Maria explained what she had been told.

"I hope it makes you feel better to know that everything you went through was not in vain. You know Reynolds was arrested on suspicion of assault, which he admitted to straight away. It would have been a relatively minor charge if not for the other separate investigations he has been a key suspect in. There was of course the way he treated me, although I never pressed charges for that until today, but it also emerges that he was involved in several other crimes on small and large scale, ranging from petty theft to online scamming." Through the gravity of the situation, the relief was palpable in her expression as she added, "They took the opportunity while he was being held to start questioning him about all manner of offences, and I suppose he was just so irritated about being caught for one thing that he openly admitted to almost everything else they presented him with."

Peggy blinked, slowly. She struggled to comprehend the news she had been told.

Eliza clarified on her behalf, "Does this mean he's going to be sent to prison?"

Maria nodded, and squeezed her girlfriend's hand tightly. They locked eyes, exchanging a meaningful look as she revealed, "He has to go to court, naturally. But he's been denied bail due to the aggressive nature of his crimes, so providing he doesn't change his plea, he should be sent away for a very long time."

* * *

Hercules and Lafayette barged into Laurens' apartment using their own key at around midday to discover the man lounging on the couch in his turtle onesie. "Come in, why don't you?" He grunted in sarcastic acknowledgement of their arrival.

"Thanks very much," Hercules beamed, happy to pretend it had been a genuine comment. The small mountain settled his impressive mass into John's armchair, while the Frenchman moved to perch upon the arm of the sofa. Both leaned incrementally towards John, as if waiting in anticipation for him to speak.

It did not escape John's attention that he was surrounded.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "You're here to lecture me, then?"

"Sure thing, Turtle boy," Hercules confirmed with a definite nod towards Lafayette. His glowing face still held that radiant smile, but there was no doubt that he was absolutely serious in his intentions, as was his companion. Laurens scowled, mourning his upcoming fate.

"Non! C'est bon, John," Lafayette insisted, reaching a hand towards the freckled man and patting his curly mane. "We're going to look within your heart and teach you how to express your feelings."

"I have _no_ problems expressing myself," John responded, knowing the others would immediately think of the way he was prone to entering into idiotic brawls occasionally ending in a hospital bed with fresh stitches whenever he found someone with views so harmful and so contrary to his own that he simply _had_ to take a stand against them, or the political rallies he attended in order to show support for those with the power to implement his ideals.

Hercules guffawed good-naturedly and contradicted, "We don't mean hollering at the top of your lungs for social reform, John. We're thinking something a little more personal."

"Or... _Someone_?" Lafayette hinted with a mischievous wink towards the young man feigning ignorance. John's deception did not last long; not when both Hercules _and_ Lafayette had fixed him with stares which held a rumour of omniscience.

"Okay, you want to talk about Alexander?" John caved under the pressure, his willpower collapsing like the dilapidated ruins of a poorly constructed building. He took a deep, shuddering breath which caught briefly in his throat before deciding, "Fine. Let's talk Hamilton."

He took a moment to glance between the two men before opting to instead focus his hazel gaze onto the fluffy fabric covering his legs. He hardly registered the words leaving his mouth as he confessed, "He's smart, and cute, and I know he's my friend but to be honest think I _maybe_ have feelings for him."

Laf released an unintentional snort. When John's head whipped up to shoot him an inquisitive look, he giggled, and justified his response: "That is - how you say? - No surprise, Sherlock?"

Mulligan joined in the laughter, adding his own hearty voice to that of his lover, amused both by the truth of the statement and the way his boyfriend had phrased it. "Dear God, my boyfriend is a dork." He wiped a sliver of dampness from his eyes before composing himself in order to add, "Laf has a very good point, though. If you were trying to be subtle about liking Alex, you've been fairly miserably since the moment you met him."

Hazel eyes widened in surprise, then immediately narrowed with a wince. Shaking his head, he lamented, "Well, whatever you think, even if I _am_ blindingly obvious about how I feel, it doesn't even matter; he doesn't feel the same."

Lafayette drew back with a fierce, hissing intake of breath, leaning away so suddenly that the momentum threatened to topple him straight off of his precarious pedestal. Hercules' jaw dropped down, and a strangled screech of unparalleled surprise fell from his open mouth. Both alternated between meeting one another's mirroring bewildered expression and concentrating the full impact of their combined disbelief upon the young man who truly had no inkling of what rendered them speechless.

After a few heartbeats or a few decades, Mulligan spoke. It was different from his usual upbeat, booming voice, which always seemed to reverberate throughout the room when he spoke. This time it was a soft and quiet where often he was almost reminiscent of a gentle roar from a conversational tiger when he spoke. It lent his words even more weight as he asked like a mother asks her child to confess gorging on cookies, "Laurens, are you _honestly_ so delusional that you haven't noticed that Alexander likes you, too?"

His freckled brow furrowed, and he repeated as more of a dazed statement of disbelief than a question and a request for an answer, "Alexander likes me, too?"

" _Yes_! How could you miss this?" Lafayette tried and failed to contain himself as he turned upon the man with an accusatory squeal. "Our petit lion has a particular attachment to you, and hides it about as well as _you_ disguise _your_ feelings! Ah, Mon Dieu, you are both terrible people for being so _incognizant_!" He tossed his head back and bitterly lamented, "Oh, it's horrible - you didn't know he liked you, so you pretended the very idea of being with him was unthinkable. Now Alexander is saddened, his poor little heart is broken and he intends to flee the country in nothing but an inflatable dinghy and live out the rest of his days with only a goat for company." The Frenchman hunched over in sorrow, and his eyes misted over at the very thought of the vivid scene he had imagined.

"That ain't true," Hercules amended, shrugging apologetically to Laurens despite his urge to laugh at the idea of the short man going to precisely the lengths his boyfriend had suggested.. "But Alex _is_ upset. If you like him like you say you do, I'd talk to him before it becomes to late to fix things."

* * *

The late afternoon encapsulated an inky blue sky and a definite edge of frost in the breeze, enough to convince that it was a much later hour for anyone unaware of the fact that in reality it was only four.

Alexander made his way to the Schuyler residence with his arms residing within the main body of his coat rather than dare allow his frozen fingertips to make contact with the air. Or more accurately, it was not _his_ coat, but the oversized one Hercules had insisted he took when he realised the Caribbean boy had no intention of buying anything sufficient to shield him from the icy daggers of the New York winter wind. Within the cocoon of padding, he clasped a large rectangular package to his chest, the project he had poured his effort into with the hopes of raising the spirits of the girl who had become one of his chief confidants about all matters (primarily those concerning John Laurens) in the days since he had recovered from the fleeting crushes he'd once had on both of her sisters. Now he intended to return the favour to her, to remind her of how much she was appreciated.

He had little disposable income at the best of times, but around Christmas he was stretched uncomfortably tightly where money was concerned. It had not been simple to come up with an affordable yet heartfelt solution, and he had no doubt it would have been much easier had Laurens been available to help, nevertheless Hamilton prided himself on his ability to achieve anything he set his mind to, so regardless of the difficulties he incurred, he was still pleased with the end result.

 _I just hope Peggy shares my sentiments_. He had to hazard a single hand from inside the warm recesses of the second hand coat to press the doorbell, and it was not long before a tall, slim figure emerged behind the frosted glass.

However, having expected Angelica, he physically recoiled when her lover opened the door in lieu of the Mistress of the house.

Thoroughly unimpressed, Jefferson flatly remarked, "I don't recall hearing that you were invited."

"And I fail to see why _you_ would have been either," Hamilton retorted. As far as he could recall,Thomas had hardly even spoken to Peggy, and he was certain that his presence there could only be compromising the youngest Schuyler's happiness.

Jefferson only grinned, as smug and self assured as he had been constantly in the days before he lost a part of himself to the enchanting eldest Schuyler sister, and informed the shorter man, "Actually, Peggy practically _begged_ me to come. She said she didn't want her sister to miss me." _She also confessed that she wanted me here purely to distract Angelica from swarming her in attention, but there's no reason for me to tell_ Hamilton _that._ Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Why are you here?"

"None of your business, Jefferson," Alexander shouldered past him as he snarled and took the familiar route to Angelica's bedroom.

He was deaf to Thomas' irritable grumbles behind him as he pelted upstairs and burst into the room, pasting on a smile in spite of the man behind him to greet one of the four women inside. "Hey, where's little Peg-Leg?"

The girl in question shoved away the duvet Angelica insisted on pulling up to her neck whenever anything lower than her shoulders emerged. She struggled to her feet, relieved to discover she felt nothing more sinister than a slight twinge in her twisted one, and hurried towards the newcomer. "Ham-the-man! I'm so glad you're here, my _oh-so-lovely_ sisters have been treating me like an infant all day long." She paused to toss a glare over her shoulder, only to smirk once she returned to speaking to Alexander, revealing she did not begrudge them despite their unnecessary fussing.

Alexander chuckled, and extracted one arm from under his coat to offer a sympathetic half embrace. Peggy leaned into him, only to hop back as she felt the icy dampness of his coat seeping into her skin. Taken by surprise, she complained, "You're freezing, take that off and we can put it beside a radiator so it's warm by the time you wear it again." Without waiting for him to comply, she settled into her usual role of taking things into her own hands, and unzipped the jacket herself, only to reveal the parcel wrapped in birthday paper her friend and colleague held to his chest.

Blushing, Hamilton passed her the rectangular object. "I didn't have any other wrapping paper, but it's what's inside that counts, right?"

Peggy peeled the paper from the package to reveal a large photo frame, holding a collage of images depicting Peggy with various members of their clique: gorgeous images of her and her sisters, playful selfies taken with Lafayette and Laurens with various snapchat filters distorting their faces, a picture of her pouring over a hefty law textbook as Alexander talked her through the contents, a photo of Hercules at her side after he successfully completed a fishtail braid in her hair for the first time, she and Eliza sipping Starbucks frappes and pouting, a selfie she had corralled Burr into participating in during the birthday party he had been very much opposed to, and many more, all coming together beautifully to weave the youngest Schuyler sister into each of their lives.

Stunned, she met his anxious gaze with a heartfelt smile. "Alex, you really didn't have to do this."

"It was no bother." _Or at least, it_ wouldn't _have been, if John had leant me his files of all these photos rather than leaving me to scroll through Facebook for them for hours on end_. Shaking off that thought, he humbly insisted, "I just wanted to cheer you up." Glancing towards the women beyond her, he encapsulated all of them into his flirtatious remark, "After all, doing a favour for a Schuyler sister is always an honour, never a chore."

Peggy laughed, having always been immune to his charms. Beyond her, Eliza glanced into her lap, while Angelica blushed.

Both Jefferson and Maria took action against the innocently teasing remark aimed at their respective girlfriends. The former pushed past the shorter man and made his way directly towards Angelica, draping and arm around her and whispering something into her ear which caused the rosy hue of her cheeks to become darker and her smile to grow, while the latter placed a finger under Elizabeth's chin and brought her close before pressing a deep kiss into her smiling lips.

Alexander's eyes widened in surprise at the effect he'd had on the women as well as their protective other halves, and began to share a pleasantly stunned chuckle with the only other unaffected person in the room. It froze and gradually withered, however, as he felt the muffled tone of his mobile ringing in his pocket. With an attempt at nonchalance which poorly concealed the sudden twist in his heart, he excused himself, "Sorry, I just need to see to something."

He stepped outside, and pulled out the phone. It was Laurens, as he had known from the moment he heard the familiar ringtone. He had wanted to meet with John earlier, hoping beyond hope that time would enable the other man to insist that he had meant nothing when he reacted so negatively to Laf and Herc's innocent suggestion, but evidently the other man did not share his wish. Now he couldn't bring himself to answer. It continued to ring until the end of the song.

Meanwhile, Peggy had brought her gift to the bed for her sisters and their company to examine and admire. When the bearer of the sweet present had not returned to the room five minutes after leaving, however, it did not go unnoticed.

Eliza placed a chaste kiss on Maria's cheek and gently murmured, "I'm going to check on Alexander." Maria watched her walk away with an underlying trace of apprehension, yet if it was because she doubted the loyalty of the woman for a limitless capacity for compassion, it was unwarranted. For when she emerged into the hallway, she found her friend leaning against the wall, staring at the phone in his hands, the screen of which had long been dark. Sliding down to sit beside him, she guessed, "Boy troubles? A certain freckled artist, perhaps?"

Alex nodded, and shot her a helpless glance, before confessing to her, "He's _definitely_ not into me. You should have seen it, a few days ago Laf and Herc made a joke about us getting together, and he literally ran away. Like, upped and ran, never to be seen again." He sighed, and leaned into her, knowing her warm embrace would be willing to accept his woe. That was her role - she was everyone's shoulder to cry on, caring for anyone who needed to feel needed, and Alexander was no exception.

"Hey, I'm sure he didn't mean to offend you. He was probably just flustered, you know it's usually him pretending you're a couple." Alexander grunted, prompting her to inquire, "Why so uncertain? I've known you a while now, Alexander, and John Laurens is the only topic you display any hesitation with, no matter how much you obviously care for him."

Hamilton considered it, forced to look within his heart to find the answer. He couldn't bring himself to meet Eliza's dark eyes as he admitted, "I'm afraid of rejection. I've been turned down and tossed aside so much in my life before I came to America, and I can't endure that again. Now that I'm here, I know that I can make most things happen for me if I work hard enough: I can get a promotion with the Washingtons, I can convert my law degree into one in politics, I can write and publish articles on all manner of things to incite change, but I can't make him _like_ me _._ " He brought his head down to his knees, dark curls falling in front of his face.

Eliza stroked his hair like a mother comforting her son. She was quiet as she offered, "Maybe you don't have to _make_ him do anything."

He didn't respond, and for a moment she suspected he hadn't heard. But after a few seconds, he clarified, "You think he likes me of his own accord?"

She nodded, before remembering he couldn't see her with his head in his lap and his eyes buried beneath a mass of hair. "Yes, I do."

Alexander began to tentatively unfurl from his hunched position, and informed her, "He says he wants to meet. He wants to talk."

"So meet him," she instructed him, without even a hint of doubt clouding her mind as she gave her advice. "I know it's hard, but you can't allow fear to restrain you." She giggled as she admitted, "I found Maria intimidating at first, and look at us now."

"Yeah, just look at you: there's lipstick on your _neck_ , Eliza."

She blushed, and hurried to rub it off, not really embarrassed to bear the signs of her girlfriend's lips, but sensing it was somewhat inappropriate to display the evidence of her own romantic satisfaction when Alexander was filled with emotional turmoil. With a wide grin, she teased, "Jealous?"

He considered striking back with some scathing retort. But then he realized Elizabeth had done nothing to deserve his sarcasm. Unexpectedly sombre, he replied, "Jealous of a happy relationship with the person you love? Very."

"Hey," Eliza soothed, pushing the long locks of hair away so that she could meet his saddened eyes. "Meet with John, as soon as possible. Be honest with him - you'll be glad you told him how you feel." His gaze was dubious, but Eliza was not discouraged as she urged, "Let him inside your heart. I _know_ that would be enough to convince him to do the same."


	24. Christmas Eve

**A/N: GUYS IT'S CHRISTMAS EVE! I'M IN SUCH A FESTIVE MOOD! AND NOW I HAVE A WORKING OVEN SO IMMA DO SOME FESTIVE BAKING AHHHHHHH I'M SO PUMPED FOR THAT!**

 **Oh yeah we're seeing the Washingtons briefly in this chapter! Good times!**

 **You know what else is gonna be good? ALL THE SHIPS REALLY GET SAILING IN THIS CHAPTER and I don't even consider that to be a spoiler - did I not warn you at the start that this might get a little predictable?**

 **At this point, I will politely suggest that if you have never seen the Christmas movie Love Actually (if not, why not?) It may be a good idea to look up the sign scene on YouTube. Juuuuuuust an idea!**

* * *

 **December 24**

As per age-old tradition, the Schuyler sisters had invited their close circle of friends to spend the night before Christmas, as well as the day itself, at their impressively large home. Considering those pre-arranged plans along with the unprecedented change in the situation which seemed to draw all of their friends to the Schuyler household in order to reassure themselves that the baby of their group was well, the trio extended the invitation to include the day of Christmas Eve too.

Thomas had seen no reason to leave since his arrival the previous day, being perfectly satisfied with borrowing a pair of Angelica's pyjamas (since her loose, skimpy pyjama shorts were the only thing of hers that fit on his bottom half, and he had opted to wear the t-shirt which matched as it seemed a shame to wear only half of a set) in lieu returning home to pack a change of clothes, meanwhile Maria had dozed off before she could even think about grabbing anything from home the previous evening, meaning that two of their group were already settled at the Schuyler residence by the time day broke on December 24th, so it only seemed right to open their home early.

To everyone's relief, the care she had been forced to endure resulted in Peggy being able to move about freely without the hindrance of an ache in her ankle, so after her enforced period of bed rest, she was bordering on exuberance, and rose from her sleep in tandem with the sun.

Eagerness to express her gratitude for her sisters compelled her to annex the kitchen and make it her own, keen to bake something she was certain they'd adore. So, though she couldn't recall the last time she'd actually cooked anything more complex than pasta, she began rooting around in cupboards and drawers, in search of a suitable recipe and the necessary utensils to bake it.

Unfortunately, the grace she demonstrated so effortlessly on the ice seemed to evade her in the kitchen.

Fortunately, the tuneless clattering of pots and pans served as an alarm clock for Eliza and Maria, (who swore up and down that it was just an innocent coincidence that they awoke at the same time, because _of course_ they _definitely hadn't_ spent the night curled up in Eliza's bed together, so there was _absolutely no_ reason for the youngest Schuyler to wink mischievously when she asked about their night) and the two women were more than enthusiastic about helping.

Peggy found she couldn't refuse the offer of assistance despite having been adamant that she should do something _for_ her sisters, not _with_ one, partly due to Elizabeth's obvious excitement, and partly because her heart melted completely when she saw how the two girls interacted; she had never known Maria particularly well, but just seeing how her beloved elder sister looked at her, as though her girlfriend was the very embodiment of all things good and beautiful, was enough to make Peggy certain that despite her slightly guarded manner, Maria had to have a truly good heart. _If she presents a cold exterior, it is because she is a victim of circumstance. And if she is learning to be open, it is because she really cares about Eliza._

Indeed, though holding back slightly due to the girl she and her girlfriend were baking with, it wasn't hard to see the utter adoration in Maria Lewis' caramel gaze whenever she glanced towards the middle Schuyler sister, and it was stunning to see the clear change she had undergone in such a brief window of time.

Even so, though her heart was ready to burst with joy for her sister, being in such close proximity to a clearly enamoured couple did ignite a small flame of longing within Peggy...

* * *

If seeing Eliza and Maria together made Peggy feel a hint of loneliness, she definitely ought to avoid her eldest sister, who remained blissfully sleeping while the three women embarked on their baking quest.

Because Angelica, though oblivious to the company, was definitely not alone: Thomas Jefferson had made a vow to himself that if by some miracle he ever won her heart, he would cherish her. He was doing precisely that as he lay awake beside her, holding her to his chest and tracing the features of her face with a single finger, so gently that it resembled the kiss of a ghost.

She awoke when his finger was touching the tip of her nose. It was a strange, but not particularly bad, sight to wake up to, with his hand mere inches from her eyes and his expression of surprise just beyond that.

Angelica giggled indulgently as she asked, "Thomas Jefferson, what are you doing in my bed?"

"Touching my gorgeous girlfriend's face," he answered without hesitation, eager to impress her with something like military speed. "Now I'm about to kiss her, with permission," he added, taking his hand away so it didn't obstruct him as he shifted closer.

Shaking her head with humour-filled bemusement and a wry smirk, she elaborated, "I can see that, dearest. What I _meant_ was: what exactly brings you to my bed? If I'm not mistaken, I sent you off with a pair of pyjamas to a guest room." She glanced under the covers to see her pair of pink shorts and the top which exposed most of her lover's long abdomen were still there, clinging to his tall, muscular form in precisely the ridiculous way she remembered snickering at the previous night.

He did his best to shrug whilst laying down - it wasn't the clearest of gestures, but she recognized it for what it was - and nonchalantly replied, "You did. But I woke up, and I missed you, so I figured you wouldn't mind too much if I paid you a visit."

Her sharp humour quickly softened, and her heart seemed to glow at hearing how he missed her after spending a single night apart: She was unfortunately accustomed to her former boyfriend pestering her when he wanted attention, but never had he seemed so desperate to be reunited with her that he actively made sure their paths crossed. Her dark, intense eyes widened in the soft morning light, and for a moment she simply stared at Thomas, forgetting how ridiculous he looked below the blankets in favour of focusing on how much she loved how he made her feel like the most precious thing in his life.

With a small cough, Thomas reminded her of his earlier request, "Can I kiss you now?"

"Affirmative." Angelica nodded, closing her eyes blissfully and relishing the sensation of his warm arms cradling her to his chest as he did just that.

* * *

Hercules and Lafayette stopped by the Washingtons' office on their way to the Schuyler residence. As predicted, Alexander was studiously studying a document over Martha's shoulder and murmuring sycophantic praise, while George fumbled with the lock of his safe.

"Alex, we've gotta go," Hercules implored, strolling up to Martha's desk and slamming his hands down upon the mahogany surface by way of announcing their arrival. "You _know_ Burr's not coming 'cuz he's off somewhere with Theo, so we really need you there, for the sake of making up the numbers if nothing else." His short friend glanced up, clearly reluctant to leave the workplace he adored, however Mulligan had no reservations about resorting to desperate measures to get the Caribbean boy out of there. Perpetually good-natured, he acknowledged, "Hey, Martha, hey George! I bet you're both wanting Alex to leave now so that you can get started with the Christmas celebrations early, right?"

Martha Washington shot a sidelong glance towards the young prodigy, before meeting Hercules' gaze, with a look which practically pleaded him to extract her employee from the office so she and her husband could do just that. Of course, her words were fairly passive as she gave the vague response, "Hamilton _has_ been working very hard."

"And now I feel it's time he took a well-earned break," George mirrored her mental sentiments verbally, returning from the small safe with two envelopes. He set a hand on Alexander's arm, in doing so taking him a few steps away from Martha's desk, and passed both packets to the young man. "One of these is your Christmas bonus, and I trust you can ensure the other reaches Miss Schuyler." His student nodded solemnly, provoking a proud, almost paternal smile from the older man. "Take it to her right away, and I don't want to see either of you before the new year." As Hamilton made to argue, Washington interjected, "Son, you work hard, and your effort is invaluable."

Martha took up the conclusion of her husband's sentence without a pause. "For now however, you ought to take at least a week to rest and recuperate - we'll need you fully energized for the next twelve months."

Visibly begrudgingly, Alexander half-heartedly mumbled, "Yes, Sir, Madam. Happy Holidays."

"And to you too, Alex. And you boys," George added, taking a moment to shake first Hercules, then a thoroughly awestruck Lafayette by the hand, before the trio left the building, with Mulligan happy to take the necessary role of guiding his dazed lover.

"George Washington shook my hand," he informed the others, though both had been there to witness it. There was a good reason for Hercules taking the role of speaking to the Washingtons, namely the fact that for no reason he nor anyone else could name, Gilbert was inexplicably humbled beyond belief every single time he encountered either of the power couple.

"I know, Gilly. It was beautiful to see," Hercules fondly commented. Though he, like everyone, was utterly confused by his boyfriend's extreme lionization of the Washingtons, he was also thoroughly accepting of every quirk which made his lover the complex, unique, fascinating man he loved.

"I'm going to name our firstborn son in his honour," Lafayette decided, still too caught up in the otherworldly awe to consider whether it was too early to be discussing baby names with Hercules.

The tailor took it all in his stride, however; for all his claims of a strong aversion to romance, even Alexander had to admit it was an unbearably sweet thing to witness as a smile lit the muscular man's face with childlike innocence, and he merely nodded and consented, "Okay. A son named George it is."

* * *

When the trio of men entered the Schuyler household, the first thing to greet them was Peggy, racing towards the men with a plate of freshly baked gingerbread cookies in one hand while the other reached out towards the group. She was grinning, and clearly excitable as she insisted, "Martha texted me, I know you have my bonus!" Before she had an excuse to tackle Alexander to claim the reward that she had earned via her hard work and dedication, he promptly produced her envelope from inside his jacket. She plucked it from his hands, tore the seal and immediately began to fan herself with the impressive wad, playfully taking on the exaggerated characterization of an excessively wealthy person and urging in a false haughty British accent, "Please, my _darlings_ , follow me through to the parlour, we can all bathe our feet in caviar before taking a stroll of the show gardens." Instead of something so grand, she lead them through to the sitting room and flung herself onto the corner seat of the large sofa, before setting down her plate of cookies on the coffee table and pocketing her wad of cash.

Maria and Eliza were settled in the loveseat, but both stood upon the entry of the three newcomers. The former kissed her colleague fondly on the cheek, then nodded in greeting to the other two men. The latter took the time to wrap first Mulligan, then Gilbert (thankfully recovered from the Washington-induced daze) in a long, affectionate embrace, before turning to Alexander. She took hold of both of his hands, and inquired softly enough that no one else would hear, "Are you still planning to talk to John?"

Alexander was about to state his confirmation, but all thoughts of doing so fled his mind as he heard two sets of footsteps approaching:

One, the ever-flawless Angelica, somehow still looking miraculously breathtaking, even without having applied makeup or brushed her unruly curls. Even in tracksuit bottoms and a faded vest, she wouldn't have looked out of place in the most decadent of ballrooms.

The same high praise couldn't be laid upon her companion, however, and it was _him_ rather than his girlfriend that caused each and every inhabitant of the house to stare in transfixed, horrified delight at his ill-fitting ensemble, before breaking into simultaneous, relentless bouts of laughter, much to the southerner's palpable chagrin.

It was only the entrance of another person that restored any semblance of calm to the room, primarily because the newcomer was most definitely a man on a mission. The intensity he exuded put an end to the giggles as he strolled into their midst. He somehow turned a blind eye to Thomas, and headed straight for the man his plans required.

"Alex."

It was little more that a breath, but the soft urgency the name held carried over even so. Alexander looked up to meet Laurens' eyes, their usual hazel colour transformed into sparkling golden spheres by the Christmas lights strung throughout the room. He didn't fail to notice a trace of uncertainty as he implored, "Can we talk?"

He began to turn to Eliza, but she was already squeezing his hand in reassurance without even having to see his doubtful expression. The words from their conversation the previous day echoed within his mind, and urged him to try for a hesitant smile. Alexander nodded, and traded Elizabeth's hand for John's as he suggested, "Outside?"

John stood and allowed the shorter man to lead him to the subdued privacy in the hallway outside the room. He saw Alex bend to sit on the carpeted floor, but Laurens quickly instructed, "No, don't get comfortable, I really have to tell you something right now."

Alexander froze, then returned to his former height and faced Laurens. His eyes begged the question his mouth didn't dare to ask, meanwhile his heart trembled frantically within his chest.

Doing all he could to leave behind his inhibitions and crippling fear of rejection to instead display the impulsive attitude which appeared in abundance in every other area of his life, John took Alexander's face between his hands, brought his eyes just inches away from his best friend's, and allowed the long-overdue confession to tumble clumsily into the open:

"I know this is unexpected, and I don't want to ruin what we have because you're the closest friend I've got, but I can't keep my mouth shut any longer; I like you a lot, Alexander, I really, really, really-"

The remainder of his graceless admission was cut off by Alex as he shifted his head marginally forward, enough so that he was able to catch Laurens' parted lips with his own. The stunned freckled boy was frozen in utter surprise, until Hamilton pulled away for a heartbeat to catch his breath. John intended to take the opportunity to say something, however he was stopped once again when Alexander reached up to bury hands amidst John's hair, pulling him even closer as he seductively growled, "Talk less."

"Smile more," Laurens finished, surprise quickly growing into delight. He grinned, coming to life like flowers in springtime, and leaned in once more, this time matching Alexander's passionate fervour.

The silence between them had been deemed suspicious by the huddle pressed against the door to eavesdrop on the men, though realistically they should have been able to judge the cause of it. Even so, Hercules carefully cracked the door open an inch, only to peek through and fling it wide open, in shock at the sight he discovered of the two men making out as though the world might end at any moment.

Uncharacteristically shy, the pair sprang apart the instant the warm glow of the lights from the sitting room hit them. Both began babbling their separate defensive excuses, however all attempts to present their kiss as anything other than what it was ended as soon as they realized that not one member of their audience would buy any fabricated story.

Exchanging coy glances, John and Alexander slowly returned to one another's side, the freckled artist finally brave enough to take the shorter man's hand and reveal to their friends and Jefferson, "Yeah: I like Alexander."

"I'm gonna be John's boyfriend now," Alex added matter-of-factly, only thinking to check for Laurens' consent with a slightly more shy mumble, "If he wants me, that is."

It wasn't necessary for John to give a verbal reply when his clearly chuffed nod, succeeded immediately by a continuation of their earlier kiss which provided all the information the Caribbean boy required.

Evidently, it was too much non-verbal information for Jefferson's liking. It was him that groaned loudly enough that the pair paused, moaning melodramatically, "Do you _really_ have to show off your brand spanking new relationship in front of all of us?"

" _Please_ , Jefferson, it's not like your excessively handsy behaviour with Angelica the other day isn't well documented," Alexander fiercely retorted, just as furious at Thomas' interruption as he was at his rude hypocrisy. As the man's eyes widened, he confirmed with a smug nod, "Yeah, there are pictures: _loads_ of them."

"Though lucky for you, you're dressed better in them than you are right now," John remarked, matching his newly named boyfriend in terms of belligerence. "Seriously, can't you find some _real_ clothes?"

"Can't _you_ get a room?" Jefferson shot back, thoroughly unimpressed with having his own exasperation spat straight back at him.

Smirking with absolute victory, Alexander mused, "You know, that's not a bad idea." He looked briefly towards Eliza, who nodded her permission for them to take a moment of privacy in the Schuyler home. With that, he began to lead John upstairs, suddenly grinning with blatantly obvious joy just as his boyfriend was.

"Catch you guys in a little while," John cheerfully called over his shoulder in the second before the two of them disappeared up the stairs, with the sole intention of kissing to their hearts' content.

* * *

The remainder of the friends returned to the sitting room to gorge themselves on festive treats, and by the time light faded from the sky, they had settled on watching a Muppets Christmas Carol, since it was showing on the television and there seemed to be nothing better to do. Jefferson had finally conceded, caving under the weight of peer pressure, and donned a large blanket which he wore as a cape in lieu of his almost indecent ensemble featuring his girlfriend's pyjamas. Though John and Alexander still sniggered with juvenile immaturity when they returned to the room, they were evidently too content with the recent development in their own life to concern themselves over the metamorphosis of Jefferson from his scanty outfit to a regal robe.

Thus peace descended on the Schuyler household as the night drew in. It was only seven o'clock, yet the subdued, warm atmosphere formed a blanket of sorts over those within.

The ring of the doorbell interrupted the calm happiness of that Christmas Eve, however. Being the only one not to currently be trapped in the arms of an adoring lover, Peggy was the first to extract herself from the group. Though it was not just her physical capability which made her swift to react, but the knowledge that, of the people who had been invited to her home and had actually seemed likely to attend, there was only James Madison left to arrive.

This assumption was responsible for the large grin plastered on her face, however when she opened the door, it was not to greet a smaller, bumbling half-smile courtesy of James Madison, but two equally wide grins. "Burr. Theodosia?"

"We missed our flight to visit my parents," the woman apologetically explained. "It's last minute, but we heard you were all spending Christmas here, and apparently Aaron was invited before we made other plans, so we wondered if we might join you."

"It's not a problem if you refuse," Aaron hastily added, a trace of fear in his gaze betraying his true reluctance to spend Christmas day surrounded by the raucous gaggle of guys he sometimes called his friends. _For once, I wouldn't mind not being in the room where it happens, if what happens in that room is merciless teasing from a bunch of people high on the festive spirit._

Noting this, Peggy opened her arms to wrap both halves of the couple in an eager embrace, massively enthusiastic as she assured, "Of _course_ we'd never refuse you! You have to come in!" It didn't escape the girl's attention that while Theo returned the unexpected hug, Aaron muttered a soft curse under his breath.

As the three made their way to the sitting room in which the rest of the group were situated, Aaron whispered into Theodosia's ear, "Please, if it comes to it, don't abandon me with Alexander or John."

Theo nodded, taking her boyfriend's hand to her lips and kissing it sweetly. It captured her interest, however, to see the two her lover had voiced his concerns about: they were lounging on a pile of cushions scattered over the floor, with the shorter man held securely to the taller's chest. A twinkle of amusement struck her eyes as she glanced towards them, and her reply to Aaron was optimistic. "I think, love, they might be too preoccupied with one another to concern themselves over us."

Aaron shook his head, ready to share how frequent an occurrence it was to see the pair all over one another, before Alexander twisted his neck and Laurens arched over to kiss him. "I don't - oh, I see."

"Well, if it isn't Aaron Burr," Alexander grinned widely as he noted the couple enter. It seemed to silently declare, _look at me, I'm kissing John, didn't I do well, be proud of me._

As John added the by-now compulsory, "Sir," Aaron saw the same utter glory as Alexander held reflected in Laurens' lazy smile and rosy freckled cheeks.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," Burr noted, for once not minding the slightly irritating greeting. He smiled, a rare genuine one just for the happy couple. _Yes, Alexander, and Laurens too, you both did well_.

Before Theo and her lover could settle themselves and join the group as they lounged in the sitting room, the doorbell rang again. Once more, Peggy was the closest, so it was her who returned to the hallway and opened the door to the next visitor.

James Madison held a wireless speaker in one hand, and a pile of large white pieces of paper in the other.

Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized precisely what the man intended to do:

It had been three weeks since the gaggle of close friends and mutual acquaintances had come together for their Christmas movie marathon - the first time Peggy had ever set eyes on James outside of the café, and before she ever made any real effort to bond with him. Yet he clearly had remembered a detail about her from that day, and now he was stood on her doorstep, ready to re-enact possibly the most romantic scene from her all-time favourite Christmas film.

Madison pressed a button on the speaker, and the familiar tune of Silent Night began to play.

James turned the first piece of paper to face her, and she read along, becoming teary-eyed as he revealed the message, piece by piece, replacing each sheet of paper with the next when she had read it, as follows:

 _My dear Peggy,_

 _I am not a brave man_

 _(as you may have noticed)_

 _But sometimes, we just have to say things_

 _(Via the medium of the written word)_

 _even when we're so very scared._

 _Which is why I'm here tonight,_

 _To tell you, with no expectations of reciprocation_

 _That you make me want to be brave enough to deserve you._

He hesitated for a few short heartbeats, facing the internal deliberation of whether it was truly wise to continue. But, after coming so far, there was nothing to do but to see it through. He dropped that sheet of paper and moved on to the next sign.

 _I understand if you don't feel the same,_

 _But seeing as it's Christmas,_

 _(And at Christmas you tell the truth)_

 _I thought I should tell you:_

 _To me, you are perfect._

 _And my wasted heart will love you_

 _For the rest of my days._

James paused, giving Peggy an opportunity to look away from the sheets of paper to his eyes, his tentatively hopeful expression and his plainly adoring smile.

She grinned, and he revealed the final sheet.

 _Merry Christmas._

"Merry Christmas, James," she whispered in reply, a single tear of joy rolling down her cheek. Madison dropped his signs and gave a small thumbs up, before making to turn around and walk away.

But Peggy stopped him, turning him immediately back around and pulling his face close to hers. "Of course I feel the same - and you're not going _anywhere_ ," she murmured with playfully stern expression. This faded as soon as she closed the distance between herself and James, smiling as she kissed him, her heart pounding fiercely as she closed her eyes and allowed herself to demonstrate her affection for the man she most strongly cared about.

* * *

 **A/N: I think we have enough ships to form a small fleet!**

 **So Peggison/Jeggy/Maggy is official, as is Lams, meaning we've just got a nice happy ending for Christmas day!**

 **I will be sad to see the end of this story. But I'm enjoying writing it!**


	25. Christmas Day

**A/N: Merry Christmas, my glorious readers! I hope you have a really wonderful day, and that you and everyone you care about is safe and warm and loved!**

 **It's been twenty-five days, but we're here - the final chapter! Thanks so much for reading this, I know we're all busy at this time of year, but it's been so fun to write this, and seeing your reviews and follows and favourites every day had just given me such a boost each day of the month!**

 **I really hope this chapter does justice to the characters, and concludes the story in a way you're happy with! Now, without further ado, let's have a look!**

* * *

 **Christmas Day**

In the distance, the bells tolling out from Trinity Church signalled that it was two in the morning. It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring - save for one surprisingly lithe tailor:

Under the cover of darkness, Hercules Mulligan was embarking on his annual mission.

Pausing to make sure the man beside him was soundly sleeping, he slipped from the bed he and Lafayette had been provided and made his way to the wardrobe situated in the guest room.

It was something he had arranged after extensive consultation with the eldest woman of the house, so though he hadn't checked beforehand, he knew to expect the supply he found inside, courtesy of Angelica.

Twelve stockings hung from the clothes rail, already filled to bursting point with a selection of small gifts. For the past six years it had been a tradition for Hercules to deliver them to the bedrooms of the Schuyler household, taking on the role of Santa Claus for the adults inside, and although they all knew that one of them had delivered the stocking, (they did not suspect _more_ than one person had been responsible for orchestrating and carrying out the plan) Hercules had never once been detected.

Of course, in previous years, he hadn't been sharing his bed, but he deemed this to be an irrelevant obstacle as he donned the fluffy red outfit folded up neatly within the closet.

He had learned his lesson from the one faux pas he had ever made, which had brought him terribly close exposure on the first year he had become Santa, during which a gift had fallen from a stocking and little Peggy, just twelve years old at the time and filled with innocent determination to capture and interrogate Father Christmas, had raced from her room with a ferocious battle cry and forced Hercules to squeeze into the alcove of a disused fireplace to hide from her. Now, he knew never to try carrying more than two stockings at once, lest the contents should spill. So, after pulling on his hat to ensure there was no risk of it slipping off unnoticed and leaving an incriminating trail, he grabbed the first two, for Alexander and John, and crept from the bedroom and into the hall.

He couldn't afford to use a torch, but even in the dim dawn half-light he could see how the new couple had curled into one another, Hamilton's long loose hair splayed across Laurens' shoulder and Laurens' chin resting on Alexander's head.

With a chuffed smile, Hercules noted, _really, nothing's changed at all._

Thomas and Angelica's stockings were next. Though Hercules had heard that on the _first_ night at the Schuyler household the pair had spent most of the night in separate bedrooms, on _this_ night there had been no question of enduring the night apart, hence the two snoring bodies, faces obscured by mountains of thick curls Jefferson refused to tie up, within Angelica's bed. Their stockings, like Alexander's and John's, were placed at the foot of the bed.

The third pair was Aaron's and Theodosia's. Though Aaron had previously told them he wouldn't be spending Christmas there, Angelica had still managed to assemble two generous stockings for Burr and even Theo, out of the spare gifts she always had stockpiled away in her own wardrobe in case the occasion for a last-minute present arose. Mulligan was certain he'd never seen Aaron look as happy as he did while he slept, his face bathed in moonlight and his hand still held by the woman he adored. Once their stockings were delivered, Hercules thought to take a quick photo of Burr's subliminal smile, before remembering it would be pointless since he couldn't show anyone without revealing himself as Santa Claus.

Next came Peggy and James' stockings. They were in separate rooms, having only really gotten together the previous day, so it was a quick drop-off for Madison and, remembering how she was prone to try and corner Santa, the fastest delivery within his power saw him depositing the stocking at the end of Peggy's bed undetected.

The final pair which actually needed to leave his own bedroom belonged to Eliza and Maria. To his knowledge, they had been in separate rooms, however he found the Schuyler sister's bed to be empty when he stopped in Elizabeth's bedroom. Not concerned, he continued on his way to the room Maria was staying in, to find both the guest and the resident of the house under the covers. Eliza's loud snores seemed disproportionate to her size, and he had to fight back the urge to chuckle at her. Evidently, the snores of her girlfriend provided no disturbance to Maria, since she was peacefully dozing in spite of the racket. Hercules left their stockings at the end of the guest bed, and returned to the room he and Laf were sharing.

He slipped back out of the Santa suit, removing everything including the hat and the beard, before grabbing up his and Lafayette's stockings. They were the last ones, and the tailor felt an enormous wave of satisfaction wash over him as he set the final ones in place.

He rolled into bed, reassuming his earlier position with his muscular arms wrapped around the Frenchman, and closed his eyes, ready to sleep as if nothing at all unusual had come to pass.

"Herc," Laf's voice was heavy with sleep as he mumbled, "It's Christmas day."

"It's still dark, go back to sleep," Hercules urged, suddenly concerned that this could be the night when he was finally discovered to be responsible for the Christmas stocking drop. _With any luck, if he sleeps right now, he'll forget he was even awake at this time._

"I had a Christmas dream. You were in it, mon amour," Lafayette continued to explain as though his boyfriend had never even spoken. Hercules was too anxious to interrupt, allowing the Frenchman to elaborate, "You were Papa Noel, and you were delivering gifts on a reindeer named George Washington."

A muffled rumbling emanated from Hercules' chest as he did his best to keep from waking the entire house with the booming laughing he longed to unleash as he imagined the dream for himself. Once he had somewhat composed himself, Hercules remarked, "That's some dream, Gilly."

"That's because my mind is as beautiful as your face," Lafayette replied, words slurred slightly as he teetered on the brink of falling back to sleep.

Squeezing his boyfriend and laying his cheek against the nape of Laf's neck, Hercules agreed, "You _do_ have a beautiful mind."

"Merci, my pretty Papa Noel. G'night."

The tailor was content to simply allow his boyfriend to drift back to sleep without any more words being exchanged. He merely whispered a sweet heartfelt, "Night, Laf, love you," before he, too, returned to the task of sleeping.

* * *

On Christmas morning, once stockings had been opened in bedrooms, it was customary to gather at the top of the stairs, waiting for everyone before venturing into the sitting room to see the tree for the first time that day.

For reasons best kept from the others, Mulligan was always the last to join the group (since his mission the night before had been tiring), but once he arrived, the already low murmuring disintegrated into silence. Following the lead of the Schuyler sisters, the troop of adults made their way slowly down the stairs, excitement crackling like electricity in the air between them.

When they entered the sitting room, a collective gasp rose from the group. The tree and all of the decorations had always been spectacular, but with the fairy lights being the only source of light, the presents gathered underneath the tree and quiet Christmas carols drifting from the stereo, it truly exuded a sense of magic which left everyone in silence during those first few moments.

The silence was soon brought to a rapid end, however, signalled by Jefferson's insistent cough, and immediately followed by renewed chatter as they all (for even the eternally patient Aaron Burr was caught by the excitement) hurried into the room, taking up positions on the floor sat around the tree and quickly distributing gifts to the rightful recipient.

To John's visible relief, the paintings he had poured his heart and soul into for the past two weeks were met with a great reception; as Alexander had suggested, he had chosen to give the portrait of him to Aaron, knowing that, though it would make Jefferson equally uncomfortable if he had received it, Burr was guaranteed to actually hang it in his home whereas Thomas would presumably throw it out.

Spotting that they both had a gift in the same shape from Peggy, Alexander and John ripped the paper from their matching stationary sets in tandem, chuckling to see the pattern of their preferred animal adorning the similar sets. Glancing to Peggy, she justified, "Well, you both write too much, and you both have a very clear favourite animal." With John wearing his turtle onesie and Alex still stained with grey ink upon his wrists from the previous day's work, there was no way they could say she was wrong.

For one another, the newly formed couple had bought gifts the other needed, for example Alexander had spent a ludicrous amount on a new set of paintbrushes he'd caught his new boyfriend researching longingly online on many occasions. Laurens, on the other hand, insisted that Hamilton was in desperate need of a onesie, for the long, cold nights he spent working. Naturally, he had selected a lion design, and after some encouragement, Alexander donned it then and there. Previously, he had been dubious about how practical or necessary they were, however with his new one he was instantly converted, much to his freckled lover's satisfaction.

Despite the pile of gifts laid out before him, Mulligan, remembering the day he had finally made his relationship official, didn't open his parcels as rapidly as his friends, for he paused whenever Lafayette selected a new brightly coloured present to watch his face light up with the jubilation he always showed when opening gifts. Therefore, he was delighted not to miss out on seeing his boyfriend's widest grin yet when he opened the gift from Hercules, a personalized silk shirt he had spent hours designing his own fabric for. It seemed to make everything worthwhile to see such appreciation from the man he loved.

To Maria, Eliza gave an excessively long hand-knitted scarf, with golden sparkles dotted here and there amidst the red wool. At the end, a small piece of embroidered cotton bore several small hearts, along with the message, "Maria and Eliza's scarf for two". The recipient read it and giggled, before bemusedly clarifying, "Does this mean you'll be borrowing this on a regular basis, or that we're meant to tie ourselves together with it?"

Eliza smiled, and assured her, "It's long enough for two to share at once. I just never want you to be cold!"

Clearly, she succeeded in her mission, as Maria melted at that, and leaned over to hug her girlfriend, before trapping her in a loop of the red material and pulling her close enough that they could share a smooch without the others seeing anything particularly graphic.

Angelica and Thomas exchanged their gifts slightly bashfully - they both had reputations for being unflappable and cool around anyone other than their closest companions. Yet for each other, they broke the rule, providing heartfelt, meaningful gifts: for Jefferson, Angelica had gotten a personalized trinket box lined with purple velvet, with a heart-shaped photo frame set inside the lid which held the first picture they had ever taken together, just seven days previously. As for Angelica, she received a small heart-shaped locket which contained the very same photograph, engraved with their names.

Not requiring an exchange of words to express their gratitude, the couple only kissed sweetly, before returning to their gifts.

Peggy hadn't bought her present for James since they made their relationship official, but she was confident in what she had chosen regardless, hence her smile of anticipation as she passed it to him. Madison opened the wrapped box to find a pair of sturdy roller skates inside. Picking them up, he turned to face her, slightly confused until she explained coyly, "I thought of getting ice skates, but I figured this way, you and I can practice all year round, and next Christmas you'll be an expert at ice skating!"

Madison beamed, touched by the thoughtful gesture, and dared to peck her cheek, before watching her open his gift to her, a silver bracelet bearing a variety of yellow beads.

Theodosia had bought Aaron a maroon tie and a jumper just a shade darker to compliment it. Her boyfriend beamed with honest adoration at he received it, and kissed her cheek with such visible adoration that for a moment, the strength of the love they shared reduced everyone else in the room to a suddenly hushed state.

And then Aaron was passing his girlfriend his gift to her, and the chatter had resumed by the time she discovered the crystal ornament inside.

The maturity of the presents Aaron and Theodosia gave one another did not go unnoticed, offering Alexander the opportunity to teasingly remark, "Well aren't _those_ the most husband-wife-y gifts you've ever seen?"

For once in agreement (because he could never resist the chance to be critical) Jefferson snidely added, "Yeah. Chill out, Burr, she's not your _wife_ \- she's probably too sensible to be tied down by _you_."

Rightly offended, Theo chose to defend her love as she knew he'd have hated to get involved in an argument himself. Raising an eyebrow confrontationally, she seemed thoroughly vexed as she coolly informed him, "I don't think it's foolish to be attracted to a man as sweet, thoughtful and emotionally mature as my Aaron. Then again, if you think kind souls are so unappealing, you should explain to your girlfriend the implications that has on your relationship." She was a vastly intelligent woman, enough so to know that her words meant that Jefferson either had to retract his statement or tell Angelica he thought she wasn't a nice person. Theo also realized that only one of those possibilities was a viable option if he wanted to hold on to the merriness of his Christmas.

Thomas grumbled a reluctant apology under his breath, and returned to examining his trinket box to remind himself he was loved.

Trying to diffuse the tension, Eliza breezily declared, "I'm done with my gifts, so I think I'll make a start on the cooking." She left the room, pulling Maria in their long scarf along with her.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to check on - Alexander, Laurens, can I borrow you for a minute?" Aaron's request was very much unexpected, nevertheless the two men were happy, if not perplexed, to oblige, following Burr into the privacy of the hallway.

Defensive, Laurens was the first to insist, "Now if you're here to scold Alexander for the married couple comment, you'll have to go through me first." He stood protectively before his lover, genuinely concerned that they might come to blows - Aaron was smiling, and it was deemed suspicious.

It quickly became apparent that arguments were the last thing on his mind, however. Burr shook his head, dismissing the idea, before launching into his questions: "You two are the most impulsive people I know, and I'll admit that without you, Theodosia and I might never-"

" _Might_?" Alexander interrupted, challenging Burr with a sceptical expression.

"Okay, Theo and I _definitely_ would never have gotten together. And when we did, you told me that if I cared about her, I should do everything within my power to make her feel the same." He paused, a hint of uncertainty holding him back.

Beginning to comprehend the unimaginable, John urged, "Where are you going with this, Burr, Sir?"

Aaron pulled out a small, velvet covered box from his pocket. His words were hushed, as though he hardly dared to speak them aloud. Regardless, his exhilaration was exuded in every syllable as he confessed, "I _know_ it's fast... I _know_ it's so unlike me, and I don't even expect her to say yes... But I want to ask her anyway."

Neither John nor Alexander said a word for almost a minute.

Laurens eventually sighed, "I knew you liked her. But _this_? Where's our Burr?"

"I'm right here, looking for assurance that this isn't an entirely stupid idea."

Alexander stared intently at the man, reading him for any trace of madness or irrationality and finding none. _He knows what he's doing, and I know he definitely cares about Theodosia, more than he ever has done about anything else. If he's going to stand for something, it should be the one he's fallen for_. Hamilton grinned, and offered his had for his friend to shake. The other hand he clapped firmly on Aaron's shoulder as he told him, "If you love this woman, go get her."

* * *

Christmas Lunch was cooked, served and devoured without a hitch (though admittedly it was a feast which lasted for hours), thanks to Eliza's expertise in the kitchen and the way she had enlisted the help of her girlfriend and sisters with bringing everything to their table. It was Peggy who insisted that the Christmas pudding should be soaked in brandy and lit, and that she should be the one to do it. Begrudgingly, the others gave in to her request, and allowed the youngest amongst them to be responsible for the lighter and the generous helping of alcohol she poured onto the dessert.

When the pudding inevitably caught light along with the flaming brandy, it was James who had been loitering by the fire blanket, and him who hurried immediately forward to extinguish the beginnings of the blaze. He also happened to be ready to offer open arms and words of comfort to Peggy when she clumsily apologised for nearly causing a larger fire.

The kiss he placed on her forehead earned a collective cheer of support from their friends, which caused the couple to collapse into a timid embrace, just a little bit too shy to kiss again in front of the crowd they were suddenly acutely aware of, but unafraid to gaze fondly into one another's eyes, conversing silently, sharing their apologies to one another for how embarrassing their friends were while expressing how it had no impact on how much they cared for each other.

It was clear that the newest couple were made exceedingly nervous by the pressure of many eyes upon them, so they were both intensely thankful when Burr cleared his throat, commanding the attention of the room by standing.

"I would have waited until after pudding, but since the pudding has been cremated, I see no reason to be unnecessarily patient." John and Alexander exchanged a knowing grin, before nodding supportively to Aaron. With a deep breath to steady the nerves he managed to hide so well, he took hold of Theodosia's hand and gazed into her deep, soul-snaring eyes before he continued, "I don't _want_ to wait around any longer, especially when what lies ahead seems so enticing for as long as you're at my side, Theodosia."

Her mouth dropped open as he dropped to one knee and produced the box from his pocket.

"My Theodosia, I _know_ this seems strange. But if you could find it within your astounding heart to love me like I love you, then I would be honoured if you would agree to marry me."

The dancer blinked twice. Understandably, she felt she couldn't trust her senses when they presented her with a scene so incredible. However, when the image of the man she cherished kneeling before her with a ring in his hand and his insecure half-smile on his lips didn't fade away like some ephemeral illusion, she knew she could trust what she saw.

She also knew she could trust her heart, which is why she replied, "Yes. Of course I will."

A moment of stunned silence followed in which the ring was placed upon her finger. It was immediately succeeded by congratulatory applause. John hurried from the table to the stereo and began playing some music, allowing the first track to blast loudly from the speakers in celebration of the engagement - fortunately, it happened to be _All I want for Christmas is You_ rather than a less appropriate engagement song such as _Fairytale of New York_. Meanwhile, Eliza made straight for the kitchen and brought out her backup dessert, a large cheesecake, in one hand and a bottle of her father's refrigerated champagne in the other.

Theo took the bottle and popped the cork, sharing a laugh which became a kiss with her new fiance as it ricocheted from the ceiling to land amidst Jefferson's hair. Angelica reached up to pluck it from his mane, leaning her head on his shoulder as she did so and commenting, "I'm so pleased for you both."

"Yeah, that's really wonderful news," James added, extending the hand which wasn't holding Peggy's waist to shake that of his colleague.

"Burr finally made a stand, and look who he fell for!" Alexander was visibly chuffed for the development in his friend's love life. "See, this is all of _our_ hard work finally paying off," he concluded, interlocking his fingers with John and clearly including him in that comment.

"We _did_ tell you he was a good guy," Laurens pointed out to the new bride to be, as smug as his boyfriend the longer he spent thinking of how the two might never have fallen in love without their excellent services as Burr's wingmen.

"I know, and I'm so thankful for it," Theo responded. Though it was in reply to Laurens, she had eyes only for her future husband, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and bought her forehead to rest against his as she added in a more private murmur, "I don't think I've ever been happier in my life."

Elizabeth watched all this with a smile resting on her lips - until a hand brushed her shoulder and she turned around.

"Liza," Maria's gaze was shy as she mumbled, "I just need to get some air for a minute." She might have feared insulting the woman had she not suddenly felt so overcrowded, but as it was, she desperately needed some space.

Her concerns were unnecessary anyway. Elizabeth had understood for some time that after closing herself off from others, Maria might take a while to become fully comfortable around large groups of other people for long periods of time. She smiled and touched her girlfriend's arm affectionately while pointing beyond her, "You're welcome to go for a stroll in the garden. Take as long as you need, it's okay."

The other woman nodded, fully appreciative of her love's understanding ways. "I won't be long, I promise," she assured, and kissed Eliza's cheek before turning away and doing as had been suggested. Amidst the noise and jubilation, her exit was as inconspicuous as she had hoped.

When Maria set out into the darkness of that Christmas evening, it was to discover that small flecks of white snow were dancing majestically through the air, in elegant, haphazardly swirling circles, and that a layer of the white powder had already settled on the ground. She didn't wander far, just enough that the loud music and equally rowdy shouts could no longer be heard, and took a few minutes to breathe deeply, allowing the icy air and mesmerizing snowflakes to smother and infiltrate her, to wash away the pressure she always felt when surrounded by so many grinning, laughing people. It was not that she wasn't enjoying the company, but she simply felt that it was such a different atmosphere from the one she had grown unfortunately accustomed to that she needed a little while alone to calm down and prepare to return to that overly bustling excitement.

She turned around to find that someone else had just joined her. "Hey, you," she warmly greeted Eliza, instinctively offering a wholehearted embrace to her since she was clearly caught unprepared by the low temperatures, having almost curled in on herself in order to preserve a hint of body heat. Eliza gratefully received her girlfriend's arms around her shoulders, and held on tight to Maria's waist. In spite of how cold the teal clad girl was, it still warmed her companion to recognize how much she clearly adored being with her.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," Eliza explained after a few minutes just holding on to and being held by the girl she cared for so deeply. "I know things got quite stifling in there, I just hope it didn't freak you out too much." Her words were muffled slightly since her forehead was resting against the guest's collar bone, but it didn't require perfect clarity for her compassionate kindness to be recognized.

"I'm fine," Maria assured, nodding though Eliza wasn't looking. "It's just so unusual to be surrounded with good, happy people, you know? Sometimes it's overwhelming."

Lifting her head to stare into her girlfriend's gorgeous caramel eyes, Elizabeth solemnly informed her, "I _do_ understand, Maria, you don't have to justify yourself to me. But you need to know that I'm so proud of you - I know it can't be easy, but you're here, and that's enough. _You_ are enough." She beamed to see Maria's enthrallingly beautiful expression soften with pure, unadulterated affection. Certain of the reply, she added, "I love you, Maria Lewis."

"I love you too, Elizabeth." It was still relatively rare that Maria didn't doubt her worthiness of Eliza's esteem, but on this occasion, on that snowy Christmas night, she was content to simply accept the declaration of love, and as the snow continued to fall majestically and cast a mystical silver glow of her love's face, she felt an irresistible desire to kiss her as though they were the only two people in all the world.

* * *

"Do you think that will be us one day?"

Angelica glanced up from the towel she was presently drying a plate with to see Thomas staring intently at a glass he was scrubbing with soapy water. He had volunteered to help her wash up, and so far they had exchanged few words, but those ones made Angelica pause to ask, "What?"

His face became flushed with an incriminating blush as he reiterated, "Do you think one day that you and I might be getting married?"

Angelica giggled, entirely baffled by his question. "Thomas, it's literally been a week, and even if we were as rash as Aaron and Theodosia, which we're _not_ , that leaves at least a few days more before you start thinking of that kind of thing."

Shaking his head and mustering the courage to actually make eye contact, Jefferson elaborated, "I know that, and this isn't me saying we should rush this. It's just me asking..." By this point, he should have been accustomed to feeling so emotionally exposed by Angelica, but it still seemed unfamiliar for him to be so uncharacteristically reticent. Yet he knew there was no backing down from her once he'd embarked on a vein of conversation, so he explained, "Do you see a future with me?" She hesitated. He gushed, "I don't want to be all clingy and pathetic, but I have to know if you're just with me to have some fun or if you actually -"

"I actually _do_ like you, Thomas," she replied, utterly sincerely. "I know I hide my feelings well, and that sometimes it's not clear whether I mean it when I say I care. But with you..." She shrugged, a rare sensation of complete helplessness surging over her as she admitted, "I think I love you, Thomas."

At once, his familiar confidence returned in the form of his lazy grin. Perceiving that response to be more than satisfactory, he set down his soapy sponge and stepped closer to her. Then, be wrapped his arms around her body, and responded with a low, flirtatious murmur, "In which case, I believe I love you too."

With Thomas and Angelica doing something that definitely wasn't washing up in the kitchen, Eliza and Maria forgetting the cold in the garden, Peggy and James curled up together in the loveseat, Lafayette trying to recall the dream he'd had the night before in more detail to recount for Hercules, Aaron and Theodosia continuing to sip at champagne while calling their various relatives, and John and Alexander taking a nap together in their onesies, peace and goodwill, not to mention love, seemed in abundance in the Schuyler household on that Christmas night.

And thus concludes the tale of the most merry and bright Christmas any of the twelve friends could remember.


End file.
